


Dwelling Place For Demons

by ThePiesEndure



Category: Avenged Sevenfold, Simple Plan (Band)
Genre: Multi, fan fiction, vampire fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-10-28
Packaged: 2018-02-11 21:19:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 40
Words: 116,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2083518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePiesEndure/pseuds/ThePiesEndure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two bands. Two vampires. Two Werewolves. Revelations will bring a father and son together, and a great evil will be released. Touring in a band has never been so hazardous before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "...a tale that will freeze your blood..."

_Friends, let me tell you a tale that will freeze your blood and chill you to the bone: A tale of a creature who lives on the blood of the innocent and prowls in the deepest, darkest depths of your nightmares. He is a Prince of Darkness, one of the denizens of the night...yet, at first glance, he is not what you would expect...  
  
Our story begins in Orange County on a dark stormy night..._  
  
 _ **May 1979**  
  
Huntington Beach, California  
  
10 PM_  
  
 _Lightning flashes in the pitch black sky illuminating a large gothic mansion on a hill overlooking downtown Huntington Beach. Rain pelts down across the small town, heavier than any other night. The residents remain huddled within their cosy homes oblivious to the stirring deep in the night...an ancient evil rising above the town and settling over the hill..._  
  
A young woman paced a long hallway arms wrapped loosely over her stomach. She was a slip of a thing barely over four feet tall. Long black hair fell beyond her waist; her skin was pale, alabaster almost translucent. The bump in her stomach, evidence of an impending pregnancy, was the only large part of her physique, and even then only by a little.  
  
Eyes half closed, she sang softly to the unborn babe that stirred within her. Glass rattled in a window close by; she glanced toward it. A gibbous moon hung low in the sky; the silhouette of tree branches cast strange shadows onto the inside walls. They looked like hooked claws. Raindrops dripped down the steel frame of the window. She shivered a little then continued her movement.  
  
A shift in light quality tugged at the edge of her vision and she glanced toward the window again. A dark shadow fell across the window ledge. A looming figure filled the window frame. She swallowed hard pulling her nightgown close to her body and hurrying further into the house.  
  
She headed for the largest room on the lower level of the two-storey building senses on high alert. Glancing warily from side to side, she noticed an open window along one of the hallways, but she didn’t slow to close it. She needed to get further into the colossal mansion. She would be safe then. Safe from whatever was out there…  
  
Some _one_  was out there. She could sense whomever it was without having to see them. Her skin prickled unnervingly as she made her way into the darkened living room. Then she halted heart rate increasing as she heard a sound coming from her left.  
  
A low hiss as if from an exhaled breath filled the room and seemed to envelop her senses. She shuddered and stumbled toward the wall, fumbling in the dark for the light switch. She hit it and soft light filled the huge room. Then she swung round to where she’d heard the noise. There was no one there.  
  
She relaxed and leaned against the wall, breaths slowing.  
  
Wiping a hand over her face, she sighed softly, laughing at herself. “Just imagining things...”  
  
Soft laughter reached her ears as soon as she voiced that thought, then a sibilant hiss deep from inside her mind:  _I wouldn’t be too sure of that, sweetheart..._  
  
She gasped holding her hand to her throat as a burning pain shot through her heart. Fear gripped her and she dashed for the door entering the dark corridor and racing toward the one sanctuary she knew.  
  
The tiny chapel in the centre of the mansion was the only place she knew that could not be breached by the denizens of the night. Even  _he_  would hesitate before breaching the code of sanctity that was set for that place. No matter that, she was one of his ilk; she was still pure of mind and heart, even if her soul had been darkened.  
  
More laughter echoed through her, taunting her as the corridor seemed to get longer by the second. She whimpered as she stumbled along, arms wrapped over her stomach.  
  
Finally, after what felt like hours, but was really only minutes, she reached the enormous double doors that lead to the chapel. She reached out, fingertips brushing the handle. She went to turn it, the latch unlocking.  
  
“ _Don’t_.” The voice that echoed through the darkness caught her off guard and, allowing her hand to fall from the handle, she sank to the floor clutching protectively at her stomach.  
  
A deep, masculine chuckle slid around her entering her mind as she trembled, pressing into the floor. Silent footsteps approached and the same looming figure she’d witnessed in the window earlier towered above her.  
  
She gazed up at the figure, nostrils flaring. It was male, the levels of testosterone in his blood was overwhelmingly evident; she could almost taste it in the stifling atmosphere that surrounded them.  
  
Sinister shadows obscured his face from her as she cowered against the wall. However, she did not need the light to recognise him. She could smell his blood, sense it pulsing through his veins as he stepped closer to her. His bulky frame blocked out all light. Straightening up so she was standing, she hissed, lip curling, showing a fang. He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down her spine.  
  
“You’re close, aren’t you?” His deep voice chilled her to the bone. Looking away, she brought her hands to cover the bump beneath her dressing gown. He smirked faintly, teeth flashing in the dark. “How soon?”  
  
She trembled, breath catching in her throat. “Days...”  
  
“When?” His tone was harsh. She shook her head. His hand shot out gripping her throat. She grabbed hold of his muscled forearm, more just to hold him then to try to push him away.  
  
His grip tightened. “When, sweetheart?”  
  
She whimpered as his fingers squeezed on her windpipe, clawing weakly at his skin, absently noting the ink that etched the length of his strong arm.  
  
He growled low. “Tell me...”  
  
“The 9th...” Her voice wavered desperately. He released her and she slid to the floor pressing her forehead to her knees.  
  
There was a rustling above her and then he was right in her face, crouched before her, his breath hot on her flesh. “Know this, sweetheart...your child belongs to me...he has my blood coursing through his veins...” He chuckled cruelly. “And you know what that means don’t you, sweetheart?”  
  
She trembled but lifted steely eyes to his; his expression concealed behind dark shades.  
  
A sudden burst of bravado surfaced from within her soul. “No. That won’t ever be...you’re a fucking monster. I will not allow you to corrupt our child.”  
  
His laughter was ice-cold. He touched his fingertips to her neck, stroking lightly. “Oh? And how do you propose to stop me?”  
  
She whimpered. “I won’t let you near him...”  
  
He sneered, eyes narrowing behind his shades. “It’s a boy?”  
  
She shuddered turning her face away, knowing she’d given him too much information.  
  
He smiled icily. “Then it’s already too late to stop this...he’ll be as black as the night...”  
  
“No...” She let out a desperate sob. “No...he will not...I won’t allow it...”  
  
He smirked then leaned close to force his lips against hers slowly pressing his tongue into her mouth curling it against her sharp canines. She whimpered clutching at his biceps. He snarled and bit her bottom lip hard, drawing blood. Then he drew back, standing, watching as she winced sucking her bottom lip.  
  
Chuckling he whispered, a deadly promise, “Do not think that you can hide from me. Wherever you go...I will find you.”  
  
Then he was gone as silently as he had come. Trembling she remained huddled against the wall eventually falling into a deep, yet, troubled slumber.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The next morning found her hurrying through the mansion into the master bedchamber. Blood-red drapes hung around an enormous four-poster bed. She avoided the bed, not even wanting to look at it, afraid of the memories that stirred in her mind. Memories of the night her child was conceived. She had been a virgin. He had not been gentle. Now, she wanted rid of those memories, this life.  
  
Moving quickly, she went to the walk in wardrobe and began to gather her clothes together, grabbing a large suitcase and tossing them inside. She did not have time to worry about making sure they were neatly folded. She planned on leaving and never coming back. She had no idea where she was going to go but she knew she had to find a safe haven for her unborn child.  
  
She paused for a moment as he stirred inside her womb.  
  
Placing a palm over her belly, she murmured soothingly. “Hush…you’ll be okay…” He stilled and she went back to her packing.  
  
Half an hour later she stood in the front hall overstuffed suitcase at her feet. Holding her right hand to her stomach, she gave the huge entrance hall one last glance over. She would miss the place; she was born there after all. However, she knew that she had to get away, find some place safer for her child to be born. After that, she did not know what would happen. Only time would tell.  
  
Lifting her bag, she stepped out through the front door and made her way down the steps to the vehicle waiting to take her away. The chauffeur opened the door for her; she nodded her thanks and slipped inside. As she did, an icy tingle snaked down her spine and the sensation of someone watching her filled her with dread. She turned her gaze toward the hills towering behind her home scanning the horizon; then motioned the chauffeur to close the door.  
  
As it clicked shut and the driver climbed in, starting the car, an overwhelming wave of fury descended upon her.  
  
She gasped clutching at her stomach, curling on the seat of the car, whimpering. “Drive…for mercy’s sake…drive!”  
  
Wild rage surged across the hill, the rain thickening as lightning flashed furiously in the sky. She huddled tighter into herself muttering soft prayers over her unborn child, holding  _his_  wrath at bay, wanting to feel even the smallest sense of hope. Yet, knowing that in the end it was useless. She  _would_  lose…  _He_ would win.  
  
He always did.

 


	2. We come out at night

_**Laval, Montreal  
  
May 9th, 2008  
  
Bouvier Residence  
  
8 AM**_  
  
Pierre yawned, rubbing at his eyes as he wandered into the kitchen of his parents’ house. Louise Bouvier glanced over from the stove where she had several rashers of bacon sizzling in a pan. A soft smile played on her lips as she watched her youngest son sink onto a chair at the table.  
  
“Mmm, that smells nice, Mom.” He stretched, scratching at his cheek. Then rubbed at his eyes again, feeling a slight itch.  
  
Louise noticed and frowned faintly. “Pierre, if you’ve got sore eyes you should use some drops...”  
  
Pierre blinked. “Nah...I’ll be right, Mom. What’re you cooking?”  
  
She grinned. “What do I usually cook on your birthday?”  
  
He laughed, shaking his head. “Bacon...as long as you leave the fat on.”  
  
Louise clicked her tongue in mock disapproval.  
  
He stood and walked over to stand behind her wrapping his arms around her waist and squeezing gently. “Thanks, Mom...no one in the world cooks bacon as well as you do.”  
  
“Oh, you. Flattery won’t make it cook faster...”  
  
Pierre just smiled, but then grimaced as his eyes began to water slightly. He rubbed his knuckle into the corner of his eye. “ _Merde_...Mom, maybe I will use some drops...where are they?”  
  
Louise shot her son a worried look. “In the fridge, door shelf.”  
  
He went to the fridge and pulled the door open, just happening to catch his reflection in the stainless steel surface. His eyes flashed red before going back to their normal deep brown hue.  
  
He blinked hard just managing to stifle his surprised gasp.  _What the...? I think I need more sleep..._  
  
He had only been home one day from touring with his band; and he was exhausted. That had to explain why he had just seen that flash of colour. Shaking his head, he found the small bottle of saline drops and headed for the bathroom.  
  
The door was locked; he banged on it sharply. “Jay. Get your ass outta there...” Pierre growled. A sudden flash of pain shot through his head, between his eyes. He groaned, clutching at his forehead. “Fuck...”  
  
“Language, son.” Rèal was walking past at that moment. He forgot his reprimand a moment later when he saw the pained expression on his youngest son’s face. “Pierre? You alright?”  
  
Pierre rubbed at his eyes furiously. “Uh...” He looked up at his father and almost instantly, a wave of cinnamon assaulted his nostrils. He frowned.  
  
“Son?”  
  
Pierre muttered an ‘I’m okay’ under his breath and rushed down the hall to his room. Rèal stared after him then shook his head and made for the kitchen.  
  
Meanwhile, Pierre shut himself in his room leaning back against the door. Breathing deeply he glanced toward the body length mirror on the wall. Meeting the bemused stare his reflection was giving, he took several long breaths.  
  
“ _Merde_...what is wrong with me?” He smeared a hand over his face. His eyes were beginning to sting. Uncapping the bottle, he tilted his head back and squeezed a drop into the corner of his left eye. Big mistake.  
  
Searing pain jolted him and he sank to the floor grasping at his face, moaning. “ _Tabernac_...” Squeezing his eyelids together, he tried to massage the pain away, but that just made it worse. “Fuck...”  
  
The pain was intensifying; his temples throbbed. Curling up on the floor, he buried his head against his knees trying to stave off the wave of white-hot pain that surged behind his eyes. It felt like a burning hot poker shoved right between his eyes into his brain.  
  
 _Make it stop…make it stop…_  
  
What sounded like water whooshing through a pipe filled his ears at that instant and he groaned because all it did was increase the stabbing pain even more.  
  
“Turn the fucking shower off!” He moaned clutching at his hair, pulling at it hard, even though he knew that was a pretty stupid thing to do.  
  
The door to his room slammed open and Jay banged in with a scowl on his face. “What the hell is your problem, fuck’tard?” He halted when he saw his younger brother curled in a foetal position on the floor. “What are you doing down there?”  
  
Pierre didn’t move, but absently noted that the whooshing had gotten louder. He clamped his hands over his ears and almost whimpered a response. “Make it stop…”  
  
Jay frowned tilting his head. “Uh…make what stop?”  
  
Pierre groaned, weakly. “The water…it’s rushing through my skull…make it stop…”  
  
“What the fuck are you on about?” He stepped closer and nudged his brother with his left foot. “Get up off the floor…”  
  
Pierre growled low.  
  
Jay backed off. “Jeeze bro…” He frowned noticing sweat glistening on his younger sibling’s skin. “Uh…are you okay?”  
  
Pierre snarled in reply, “What the fuck does it look like?”  
  
Jay grimaced at his tone. “No need to bite my head off…”  
  
“Sorry…” He pushed up carefully from the floor, holding his palm to his forehead. “Need an aspirin…my head feels like it’s gonna explode…”  
  
His brother snorted. “Been partying?”  
  
Pierre shot a baleful glare his way. “No. Got back from tour yesterday…just fucking tired…”  
  
Jay nodded and moved out of his brother’s way. “Yeh…well there’s a full pack of aspirin in the bathroom…”  
  
Pierre nodded and stumbled out of his room, the whooshing in his ears now thrumming deep in his body. Making his way into the bathroom, he managed to get to the vanity, but that was as far as he got before the room suddenly appeared to jerk and everything went black.  
  
 _ **Toronto**  
  
Same time_  
  
Sunlight streamed down onto the pavement where two men slouched at a cab rank watching the early morning traffic move along at a snail’s pace.  
  
These two men were like chalk and cheese. One, leaning against the railing that separated the cabstand from the road, was smallish with shorn dark hair, a piercing in his left nostril and soft brown eyes that darted nervously up and down the street. Tattoos of faces adorned his right arm that dangled over the railing.  
  
The other man, much larger than the first, stood propped against a lamp pole. Ink covered the powerful arms that were folded across a broad chest. His expression was concealed behind a pair of dark aviator shades.  
  
“Shadows, sir...” The smaller male mumbled half under his breath as he kept scanning the street, face tilted slightly upwards.  
  
 _What the fuck is it now, Christ?_  Shadows shot a hard look at the smaller man as he leaned over the railing nostrils flaring slightly.  
  
They were waiting outside a hotel for the rest of their gang to surface so they could head to the nearby venue: Avenged Sevenfold, their public face, was to play several shows in Toronto before embarking on a cross Canada tour.  
  
Christ glanced at his master with a slightly confused expression on his face. “Someone’s hit puberty and not liking it very much…”  
  
Shadows sneered.  _No one fucking likes it, Johnny. You try being a fucking vamp at puberty…_  
  
Johnny Christ winced at his tone. “I don’t think I want to…going wolf is bad enough…”  
  
The larger male just snorted and looked out across the quiet street. Johnny shifted his weight shoving his hands into his pockets, glancing sideways at the man beside him.  
  
Shadows met his look and cocked an eyebrow. “Yes?” His physical voice was deep, raspy, an ever-deadly undertone lacing through his words.  
  
Johnny swallowed hard. “You didn’t ask me who it was…”  
  
Shadows laughed. “Why should I? It’s probably just some random that you caught a whiff of down the street somewhere…” His laughter stopped when he saw a haunted light flash in the smaller man’s eyes. “What? Christ?”  
  
Johnny tore his eyes away, Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “It’s coming from Montreal…”  
  
Shadows’ brow furrowed. “What? So?”  
  
Johnny massaged his temples. “The scent’s strong, Matt...”  
  
Shadows growled. “Don’t call me that…”  
  
“Sorry, sir…”  
  
He grunted. “So. Tell me. Who is it?”  
  
Johnny bit his lip. “You remember… _her_?”  
  
“Who?” Shadows turned his head to look at the smaller man, sliding his shades down the bridge of his nose, eyes narrowed warningly.  
  
Johnny shivered and rubbed at his arms glancing across to the entrance of the hotel, wishing the guys would hurry up.  
  
Shadows gave a low growl.  _Who, Christ? Remember, who?_  
  
The younger male exhaled harshly. “Serena.”  
  
Shadows looked away the muscles in his jaw tightening as he clenched his teeth.  _That whore..._  
  
“She wasn’t-”  
  
 _Don’t. She dared to defy me._  
  
“It was a long time ago...”  
  
“Twenty-nine years...not such a long time, considering,” Shadows bit out harshly. He looked across the street once more. “She was pregnant.”  
  
Johnny nodded slowly, thinking out loud. “She brought her unborn child...here...to Canada...”  
  
Shadows blinked suddenly realising what he was driving at. His lip curled savagely. “Her son...”  _He’s reached that age..._  
  
Johnny bobbed his head up and down in the affirmative. “Yes sir.”  
  
Shadows cast a cold, calculated look his way. “You have contacts in Montreal City.” It wasn’t a question. Johnny slipped a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, nodding slowly as he removed one and lit up.  
  
His master frowned pinching his bottom lip absently. “Get in touch with them. Find the source...I  _want_ her son.” Shadows looked toward the hotel lips pressed together in a severe line.  _Our son... MY son..._  
  
Johnny nodded slowly then went back to scanning the street, smoke streaming from his mouth as he sucked at his cigarette.  
  
“Hey, fuckers!”  
  
Johnny perked up and looked back over his shoulder; a tall lanky figure swaggered toward them, clutching a steaming cup of coffee.  
  
Shadows’ wrinkled his nose as he pulled out of his thoughts and nodded to the figure. “Rev…are the others even bothering to show?”  
  
The Rev smirked and tilted his head just as there was a soft  _pop_  and the two remaining gang members, both adorned with colourful tatts and matching scowls, appeared.  
  
Shadows growled glancing across the street.  _You shouldn’t be doing that here…people might see…_  
  
“Ah, don’t get your knickers in a knot, Matt.” The one who spoke had flickering green eyes; they shifted shades from deep emerald to light hazel depending on his mood. Snakebite piercings adorned his bottom lip, which he sucked on lightly watching for their leader’s reaction.  
  
Shadows glowered at him. “Shut up, V. And don’t call me that.”  
  
“Jeeze, what crawled up your ass and died?” The other gang member, sporting a cocked fedora, smirked cruelly.  
  
Shadows looked at him. “I’ll explain later, Syn. We need to get to the arena.”  
  
Synyster Gates grunted. “I don’t see why we even bother with this fucking charade…”  
  
The Rev laughed. “Because it’s a fucking ball…”  
  
Shadows smirked, rolling his eyes behind his shades. “Syn, it’s just a front…and Jimmy’s right, it  _is_ fun.” He turned to Johnny who’d moved a little closer to his side. The larger male stroked the back of his head almost tenderly. “And pup here has a good time…”  
  
“Oh, yeah…and of course you give a shit what the  _dog_  likes.” Synyster sneered menacingly, shooting a brutal stare at the smaller man. Johnny shrank back.  
  
Shadows snarled.  _Lay off, Gates. He’s mine…remember that._  
  
Fedora-wearing male backed off and nodded. “Of course.” He muttered under his breath, “If I’d had my way…”  
  
Shadows shot a dangerous look at him then swung around from the lamppost and began walking away. Johnny trotted along behind him, holding his body tense not daring to look back as the others trailed behind, silent and watchful.

 


	3. Strike!

_**Laval, Montreal  
  
Bouvier Residence  
  
Same Day  
  
11 AM**_  
  
“You okay now, bro?” Jay crouched by Pierre as he sat on the floor clutching a glass of water in his right hand, kneading at his temple with his left.  
  
“Yeah…” He shook his head. “I think so…”  
  
“What the hell happened?”  
  
Pierre shook his head again. “Not sure…just blacked out…”  
  
Jay turned and sat next to him leaning his back against the vanity. “Maybe you caught something on tour?”  
  
Pierre’s nostrils flared faintly. “Could be…” He frowned as a light aroma of chocolate floated around him. “Uh…you got chocolate on you?”  
  
His older brother blinked. “Um, no.” He tilted his head. “You sure you’re fine?”  
  
Pierre grimaced.  _No…I think I’m going crazy…why the hell am I smelling things…and what the fuck is that whooshing sound?_  
  
The sound of liquid rushing through pipes had come back stronger; it appeared to be extremely close, but he had no clue as to what that was. Maybe there was something wrong with his inner ears. He pushed up slowly from the floor, bracing his hands on the vanity.  
  
Jay watched him carefully not wanting his younger brother to collapse on him. “Uh...maybe you should go see a doctor?”  
  
Pierre shook his head. He stopped when he realised that caused his vision to spin. “Nah, I’ll be right...nothing a little rest won’t cure...” He glanced at the pack of aspirin sitting on the shelf. “Oh...and one of those.”  
  
Jay rolled his eyes as Pierre grabbed the box and emptied one pill into the palm of his hand, tossing it back with the last of the water in the glass.  
  
“I guess we shouldn’t mention this to Mom and Dad?”  
  
Pierre snorted. “Yeah, that’d go down well. Mom would probably make me go to the doc.” He smeared a hand across his face, and then turned the tap on, splashing water onto his face. Straightening he dried his face on a small towel then turned to exit the bathroom.  
  
Jay followed him out scratching at the back of his neck. “So, what’re you gonna do with yourself?”  
  
Pierre looked back at him and smirked. “Not much. Chuck might pop round later.”  
  
Jay folded his arms and leaned against the wall. “You’d think after touring for months together you’d be sick of each other.”  
  
“They’re my only friend’s, Jay. We never get sick of each other...sick of living on top of each other sure...but at least here we can go home and have that time away from each other.” Pierre scuffed his shoe against the carpeted floor. “Anyway, touring may be fun...but it’s work. Spending time together at home...it’s purely pleasure.”  
  
Jay chuckled. “Speaking of pleasure, you heard from Chelle?”  
  
Lachelle Farrar was Pierre’s fiancée. They had met at an art gallery opening four years ago; Lachelle was an art student in Toronto and had been hosting an exhibition for one of her school peer’s. During semester, she was in Toronto and kept in touch with Pierre via phone and e-mail. She came home during the festive season and her larger breaks.  
  
Pierre shook his head. “Not yet. I haven’t checked my email since I got back.”  
  
“Uhuh. Well, maybe you should...” Jay smiled slightly then pushed away from the wall and left his younger brother staring after him in bemusement.  
  
 _ **Noon**_  
  
“Pierre!”  
  
Pierre popped his head out of his room, where he’d holed himself after grabbing a bite to eat. “Yeah?”  
  
Louise appeared in the hallway purse slung over her left shoulder. “Your father and I are off to the mall. Do you want us to get you anything?”  
  
Pierre sucked on his bottom lip; a dull pulsing thrummed at the back of his eyes again as a whiff of roses floated towards him.  
  
He shook his head. “Uh...no thanks, Mom...I think I’m all set.”  
  
She smiled, nodding then turned to head out. Jay popped out of his own room as she passed it and caught hold of her purse muttering something to her. Pierre didn’t hear because he had ducked back into his room.  
  
He plopped himself down in front of his desktop computer and switched it on. As it rumbled to life, he frowned as the noises of his parents’ car filtered into his room.  
  
“That’s weird...” He muttered quietly. He stood and went to the window. It was shut tight. He scratched at his head. “Why can I hear the car?” He closed his eyes for a moment then opened them again.  
  
A loud rhythmic buzzing caught his attention then and he turned his head staring at his bag that lay open on his bed.  
  
 _What the..._  He walked over and dug around until he pulled out his cell phone, which was vibrating furiously. He glanced at the caller ID and grinned faintly.  
  
Flipping it open and sliding back onto his swivel chair, he answered with a slight smirk. “Hey, Chuck...missed me, eh?”  
  
His best friend and band mate laughed at the other end of the line.  _“Yeah, how long has it been, buddy?”_  
  
Pierre pretended to think for a moment. “Um...one night?”  
  
Chuck practically cracked up laughing.  _“Fuck, we just can’t get enough of each other.”_  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes. “Indeed. What’s up?”  
  
 _“Well, I know you’re probably sick of all of us...but David called and said we should go bowling. Bring the girls along too...”_  
  
Pierre sucked at his lip and swirled around on the chair, absently noting a fly that was crawling across his desk. Its footsteps sounded like tiny pins tiptoeing in sand.  
  
He blinked at that thought and shook his head returning his focus to his phone call. “Bowling?”  
  
 _“Yeah, it’s that thing you do with a heavy ball and a set of pins...”_  
  
“Hah, you’re so funny.”  
  
 _“I try...so, you in?”_  
  
“Sure...I’ll come along. When were you thinking?”  
  
There was a rustling at Chuck’s end as he was scrounging for something then he answered, voice muffled slightly.  _“Uh...in an hour. The old joint in town.”_  
  
Pierre shrugged even though his friend couldn’t see him. “Sounds great. Oh, by the way...I guess I’ll be girlfriendless...Lachelle’s still in Toronto.”  
  
 _“Right. Of course. Oh well, you could bring Jay.”_  
  
“Yeah, like he’s any substitute for my fiancée...”  
  
 _“He needs to get out of the house...”_  
  
Pierre sighed; he knew his friend was right. His older brother had been sick for quite a long time; he’d had non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma and it had been touch and go there for a while. He was in remission now and Pierre prayed that that was the end of Jay’s illness. Their elder brother, Jon, had visited from Toronto during the past two years wanting to see how his two younger brothers’ were coping. But, with Pierre being away on tour Jay hadn’t left the house much.  
  
“Okay, I’ll bring Jay with...”  
  
 _“Great. Will see you at one then.”_  
  
“Yep, see ya...” Pierre clicked off his phone and tucked it into the back pocket of his jeans.  
  
Then he glanced at his desk again where the fly was now perched on his computer keyboard, cleaning its front legs. He scowled at it. It flew off with a high-pitched squealing buzz. The sound assaulted his ears and rang for many seconds after the insect had disappeared.  
  
Pierre frowned and wriggled his finger in his ear hole. Then, laughing at himself, he turned to his computer and settled down to read the gazillion emails that he’d left unopened whilst on tour.  
  
 _ **Downtown Laval  
  
12:55 PM**_  
  
Patrick Langlois sat in his car fiddling with the rear-vision mirror. He had only just recently bought the car from a friend and already he had found several things wrong with the vehicle. A dickie mirror was the least of his problems, but right now, it was the easiest to fix.  
  
Sucking on his tongue, he twisted the joint slightly.  
  
“Come on, fucker...” He muttered under his breath as he finally clicked it into place.  
  
“Who you calling a fucker, Pat?” A disembodied voice floated through his open window. He jerked his head around just as Pierre poked his head through the window. Their foreheads collided.  
  
“Ow...” Pat backed up, pressing his hand to his head. “Jesus...”  
  
“Nah, it’s just me.” Pierre grinned, rubbing at his own forehead, but then his nose wrinkled up as a strange scent wafted toward him. “Jeeze...did a dog die in here or something?”  
  
Pat frowned, his own nose wrinkling as a soft hint of caramel assaulted his own senses  _Shit...it’s fuckin’ happening..._  “Uh. No. Last owner never had a dog.”  
  
“Strange...I swear I can smell a dog...”  
  
Pat rolled his eyes. “Right, of course.”  _That’s not dog you’re smelling..._  
  
Pierre looked at him sharply. “You sure you haven’t got Stuey hiding in here?” Stuey was Pat’s girlfriend’s French bulldog.  
  
“No. Mare has him.”  
  
“Oh. Well, you coming in?” Pierre tilted his head toward the entrance of the bowling alley.  
  
Patrick nodded slowly squinting faintly at his friend. “Yeah, give me a moment.”  
  
“Okay...just hurry the fuck up, eh?” He removed his head from the car and ambled across the parking lot to join the others who had just appeared in Pat’s view.  
  
Pat shook his head and looked into the rear-vision mirror meeting his eyes in the reflection. “Great answer, Langlois... ‘right, of course...’ that’s great...” He grumbled angrily to himself.  _You should’ve just told him the truth..._  “Right...that’d go down well...not...”  _Well...it’s not like he doesn’t have his own...issues._  “Great, now I’m having a conversation with myself.”  _Well-_  “Just be quiet...”  
  
Pat rolled up the window and then got out locking the door and making his way into the bowling alley.  
  
* * * * *  
  
“I call 60!”  
  
“What?” David scowled at Pierre who was standing on one of the chairs a bright pink bowling ball cradled against his chest.  
  
The singer chuckled. “I call 60.”  
  
“What the fuck does that mean?” The bassist looked confused.  
  
Pat came up next to him and slapped him on the shoulder. “He means that you’re gonna lose by 60 points, buster.”  
  
David pouted and glowered at Pierre. “No way! I’m gonna beat your ass!”  
  
The singer chuckled, bounced off the chair and made for the lane to take his first shot. Pat rolled his eyes and flopped in front of the tiny score monitor watching as the numbers flashed on the screen. As he absently watched his friends’ taking turns to bowl, a tiny tickling sensation tingled at the tip of his nose.  
  
He growled under his breath.  _Jesus...not now...gimme a break..._  
  
 _ **Sorry, Pat...but...um someone’s calling you...**_  
  
 _Fuck off, loser breath..._  
  
 _ **It’s kinda important...**_  
  
 _Can’t it fuckin’ wait? I’m trying to have some fun for a change..._  
  
 _ **It’s about Bouvier...**_  
  
 _If it’s about his fuckin’ change..._  
  
 _ **Well it’s more than that...**_  
  
 _What?_  
  
 _ **Christ needs to talk to you...**_  
  
 _Christ? Is he there?_  
  
 _ **He’s just arrived in the City...and he’s pretty damned upset about something.**_  
  
 _Fuck. Not Shadows? He can’t find-_  
  
 _ **Don’t panic, he doesn’t know. Christ picked up the scent and thought he should contact us.**_  
  
 _Not now. I need some time..._  
  
 _ **Fine. We’ll give you a couple of days. Then you NEED to see Johnny.**_  
  
 _Fine, now piss off, you dog._  Pat shook his head to clear it and glanced up just as David went barrelling past and almost slid along the lane crashing into the pins. He watched as Pierre cracked up laughing, clutching at his stomach.  
  
He rolled his eyes. “Jeeze, Pierre...it’s not that funny...”  
  
Pierre glanced over at Pat and smirked. “What shat in your corn puffs?”  
  
Pat just grumbled and looked back at the screen.  _Just you’re fuckin’ puberty setting my nerves on fire..._  “Nothing. Oh, look. David got a strike for that.”  
  
Pierre got up off the floor and came over, bracing a hand against the back of Pat’s chair. “Oh, look...he did...fucker...”  
  
Pat snorted and didn’t even bother looking around. However, when he heard a soft groan from behind him, he slowly looked back just as he heard David call out:  
  
“Pierre!” The bassist dropped his ball into the rack and dashed over, just as Pat saw Pierre’s body slide onto the floor, his eyes rolling back into their sockets.  
  
“Fuck...” Pat spun out of the chair so fast he almost sent his brain spinning. He got down on his knees next to his friend’s prone figure. “Fuck...fuck...”  
  
 _Motherfucker...­_  
  
 _ **What is it, Pat?**_  
  
 _Pierre blacked out..._  
  
 _ **Not good...**_  
  
 _Not good? That’s all you can fucking say- you know what, just shut up...I’ll deal with this._  Pat blocked off his mind and placed a hand on Pierre’s forehead. “Pierre...Pierre...”  
  
“What’s that gonna do, Pat?” David was kneeling next to him with a bemused scowl on his face.  
  
Pat just grunted. “We need to get him up.”  
  
“He’s out cold!” David groaned.  
  
Chuck came over then, phone in hand. “Should we call an ambo?”  
  
Pat looked up. “No. No need.” He looked back down into his friend’s face and slapped lightly at his cheeks.  _Pierre...wake up..._  That was enough.  
  
Pierre’s eyelids dragged open and he stared into his friend’s bright hazel eyes. “Did you just...?”  
  
 _Shh...don’t ask...I’ll explain later._  “You okay, bud?”  
  
Pierre blinked at him slowly gathering his thoughts together.  
  
“Did he just what?” David poked his head over Pat’s shoulder. Chuck pulled the bassist away.  
  
Pierre rubbed the back of his head. “Uh...I think I just fainted, eh?”  
  
Pat nodded slowly. “Yeah. Any idea why?”  
  
Pierre bit his bottom lip. “Don’t know...but it’s the second time it’s happened...”  
  
 _Great..._  
  
 _ **Well, of course this is the second fucking time...the first was when Christ sensed the change...**_  
  
 _That makes sense..._  Pat ran his fingers through his hair. “You think you’re gonna be okay?”  
  
The singer grimaced. “I think I need to see a doctor...”  
  
“No!” Pat blurted out before realising. His friend gave him a weird look. He sighed. “I mean...are you sure you need to? You seem fine, now.”  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes. “I doubt blacking out twice in one day is normal...”  
  
 _ **Not for a healthy human...but he’s not a human...he’s a fuckin’-**_  
  
 _Just shut up, okay? I know what he is._  
  
 _ **Yeah, right**_  
  
 _...Anyway, the doctor won’t find anything wrong with him..._  
  
 _ **Then just let him go...no big deal.**_  
  
 _Hah, glad someone thinks so..._  Pat sighed. “Okay, you want me to drive you?”  
  
Jay, who had been just sitting watching everyone, glanced over. “I’ll drive Pierre’s car back.”  
  
Pierre nodded to him. “Thanks bro.” He turned his eyes back to his friend. “And, thanks, Pat. Might be an idea...”  
  
Pat stood and helped the singer onto his feet. “Okay...let’s go.” He waved to the others. “Sorry, guys...you’ll just have to go on without us.”  
  
David pouted, “No fun...”  
  
Chuck rolled his eyes. “Well, you might beat me at any rate...”  
  
The bassist giggled, grabbing his bowling ball and making for the lane. Pierre and Pat both rolled their eyes and left the alley in silence, neither male noting the intense heaviness that settled in the atmosphere above. There was a storm coming and no one knew it.

 


	4. What's up, Doc?

**_Dr Le Millereux’s Surgery  
  
2 PM_**  
  
“Well, Pierre, there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with you.” Doctor Le Millereux leaned back on his chair and studied the young man in front of him.  
  
Pierre sat on the exam table in just his boxers gripping the edge of it in his hands. Normally he would have believed the doctor. He was a close friend of the family and a very reliable professional. His parents swore that the Doc was always at the top of his game. However, Pierre did not quite trust the doctor’s prognosis. Not this time; any other time, sure, but this was different.  
  
He sighed heavily. “I feel drained though.”  
  
The doctor tilted his head to the side; thin framed glasses perched lightly on the bridge of a highly arched nose. He had an air of wisdom to him; grey hairs escaping from their otherwise neatly combed position.  
  
“Well, that could just be due to your touring schedule more than anything. I would suggest you just take as much rest as possible and not exert yourself too much.”  
  
Pierre smeared his hands over his face. “But, doc...I fainted twice in one day...and...dammit...” He shook his head. “It’s fuckin’ weird...” He paused then laughed. “Sorry...I mean it’s weird...all these things happening to me...”  
  
The doctor just smiled. Such language didn’t easily offend him. He had two teenage sons who dropped the F-bomb at every chance they got. He was used to it.  
  
He splayed his hands out in front of him. “I’m not sure I can explain those symptoms...you’re tiredness may just be causing your senses to be confounded. I shouldn’t worry too much.” He stood and nodded to where Pierre had tossed his clothes. “You can get those back on. I’ll get the nurse to supply you with some aspirin, other than that I don’t think there’s much else I can suggest.”  
  
Pierre nodded, hopping off the table. “Well, thanks for checking anyway...” He grabbed his shirt and jeans pulling them back on. He glanced at the doctor. “I guess I’ll just sleep for the rest of the week...”  
  
Dr Le Millereux chuckled. “Sleep never hurt anyone. Take care, and say hi to your mother for me.”  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes and exited the consultation room.  
  
He found an anxious Pat pacing the length of the waiting room.  
  
He glanced up, nostrils flaring slightly. “Pierre...what did the Doc say?”  
  
Pierre made for the reception desk to pay the fee and get his bottle of aspirin, casting a sidelong look at his friend. “He couldn’t find anything.”  
  
Pat’s jaw tightened even as he told himself he knew that would be the case. “Nothing?”  
  
“Nope, he just said I was probably fatigued from touring.”  
  
“Yeah, why the hell didn’t I think of that?”  
  
Pierre missed the sarcasm in his friend’s tone. “I don’t know...probably just thought the worst. It’s human nature.”  
  
Pat rolled his eyes slightly.  _That’d work...if we were fucking human..._  He raked tense fingers through his hair. “So...”  
  
“So?”  
  
“What’re you going to do?”  
  
Pierre shrugged. “Guess I’m just gonna go home, put up my feet and not move for the rest of the week.”  
  
Pat smirked. “Lazy ass.”  
  
The singer snorted. “You can talk.”  
  
His friend lifted an eyebrow. “I’m going to be busy doing shit for MOTH and Role Model...and for the SP website.”  _And making sure that fucker doesn’t find you...and figuring out how to explain what’s actually going on without freaking you out..._  
  
Pierre smiled weakly. “Dude, you’re the best, you know that?”  
  
Pat shook his head a cocky grin flickering on his lips. “Well, it’s what I do best.” He clapped a hand to his friend’s shoulder. “Come on, we’d better get back to your place and let the guys know you’re not gonna die.”  
  
Pierre laughed and followed his friend out of the doctor’s surgery.  
  
 ** _Toronto  
  
4:25 PM_**  
  
Zacky Vengeance was leaning on the barrier that separated the front of the stage from the mosh pit. A small gaggle of fan girls hovered close by pushing gently at each other as if trying to get up the courage to approach the rhythm guitarist.  
  
He sent them a winning smile, green eyes sparkling. “Hello, girls.”  
  
They all gasped when he spoke, still giggling though. He kept smiling even though all he really wanted to do was grab the closest one, sink his fangs into her jugular and suck her dry. That’s what being a vampire does to one: an extremely hungry vampire...  
  
 _I wouldn’t be thinking that, Vengeance..._  
  
The girls suddenly squealed and he glanced to the side to see his leader approaching. The master vampire looked completely benign and practically friendly as he came towards the barrier. Dressed in a pair of camouflage shorts, white T-shirt and flip-flops he looked nothing of the dangerous predator he really was. Just the lead singer of Avenged Sevenfold.  
  
Zacky’s lip curled ever so slightly.  _Shadows...I wouldn’t act on it here..._  “Oh, look...now I guess you want hugs from him instead of me...” Zacky pretended to pout at the girls. One of them, a tiny blonde with black eye shadow circling huge blue eyes, blushed deeply.  
  
The guitarist chuckled. “You wanna hug M Shadows?”  
  
Shadows smirked. “She probably wouldn’t mind if you hugged her...you’re a lot chubbier than me.” He shot a look at the guitarist, darkness in his eyes that only the other man could sense.  _You’d better not, V; I’ll rip out your fuckin’ throat myself, if you do._  
  
Zacky grunted disdainfully; the girls took that as a sign that he didn’t like being teased about his weight.  
  
“Awww...don’t be mean...we like his pudginess...” one of the other girls giggled.  
  
“Yeah, it’s hot!” Another girl blurted out.  
  
Shadows rolled his eyes; for once, he wasn’t wearing his shades and his bright hazel eyes appeared warm, soft. “What about me? You think I’m hot?”  
  
The girls giggled again. He smirked at them and braced his hands against the railing, gripping it firmly muscles flexing in his arms. They gawped at him; he knew exactly what they were thinking. They had never seen a male as buff as he was. He chuckled low in his throat, watching as they all went different shades of pink.  
  
He smiled then dimples appearing, expression softening. “Who wants a photo?”  
  
Zacky vaulted the barrier landing softly next to the girls. “I’ll take it if you want.”  
  
The girls all giggled and crowded around Shadows where he leaned against the barrier. He placed a heavy arm around the tiny blonde’s shoulders, the other girls huddling around them. The girl closest to Zacky held out her camera.  
  
He took it from her and took several steps back holding it up and squinting at the screen. “Smile everyone...you too, Shads...”  
  
 _I don’t fuckin’ do smiles..._  The bigger male slid a smile onto his face, into his eyes. He was an extremely good actor.  
  
Zacky clicked the shutter smirking.  _Why ever not, Shads? They look good on you..._  
  
Shadows gave a silent growl that vibrated in the guitarist’s skull.  _You_  want  _me to rip your throat out, kitten?_  
  
Zacky decided wisely not to respond and instead focussed on the girls, handing the camera back. “There you go, hope you enjoy the show.”  
  
They thanked him profusely before hurrying off chatting excitedly to each other.  
  
As soon as they were out of earshot, Zacky rounded upon the singer. “What the fuck is your problem?”  
  
Shadows snarled, “My problem, kitten?”  
  
“Yeah, and I wish you’d stop calling me that.”  
  
His lips pulled into a cruel sneer. “What? Kitten?”  
  
Zacky trembled, clenching his fists. “I am not a fucking child!”  
  
“You’re a thousand-something years younger than me, Vengeance; you’re a child to me.” Shadows chuckled lightly.  
  
The guitarist stalked close to his leader and pressed a finger against his chest, ignoring the tensing of the bigger male’s muscles. “I’m not Christ...I am not your fucking  _dog_  to bow down to your every goddamned whim!” He paused then a thought coming to him. “Where the hell is Johnny anyways?” He backed down from the larger man scowling at him. “We have sound check soon and he’s not even here...”  
  
Shadows shrugged a bored expression on his face. “No idea.”  
  
“No?” Zacky snorted.  
  
 _Zacky Vengeance..._  The menace in Shadows’ mind was unmistakeable. The guitarist backed off lowering his eyes, which had incidentally turned a shade of olive.  
  
Shadows sighed. “You hungry?”  
  
Zacky glanced up at the singer. “Yeah...”  _I feel fucking dry...I need to bite something...and those girls...their blood..._  He shuddered slightly, biting his bottom lip as his canines’ began to ache.  
  
The bigger male rolled his neck slowly, and then stretched his arms above his head. “Come on then...we have time before sound check. Syn said he found a place we could go. That’s actually the real reason I came out here. To tell you that.”  
  
Zacky blinked. “Right.”  
  
“Well, don’t sound enthusiastic, or anything.”  
  
“Fuck off.”  
  
Shadows hissed dangerously.  
  
The guitarist held his hands out in a placating gesture. “Sorry...”  
  
The huge male just grunted and turned on his heel heading backstage once more. Zacky trailed behind muttering under his breath, but falling silent when Shadows sent a cold stare back over his shoulder. Then he pushed open the door to the small room off the main backstage area.  
  
Synyster and The Rev were lounging on one of the many sofas that were propped along the walls of the backstage dressing room. Syn had a Marlboro cigar hanging out of his mouth, smoke curling up in front of his face.  
  
He removed it from his lips and rose from his seat, smirking faintly. “Ready for the hunt?”  
  
Shadows rumbled in his throat.  
  
“When is Shads ever not ready for the hunt?” The Rev commented wryly.  
  
“Uh, that would be...never.” Syn chuckled then frowned faintly. “Where the fuck is the dog?”  
  
Shadows glared at him. “Be nice, Gates. He’s a Were...not a dog.”  
  
“Same diff.”  
  
“It is  _not_  the same.” The larger male snapped, wondering silently why he was even bothering to defend the Were.  
  
Syn laughed harshly. “Since when do you give a shit? Seriously, Shads. You fuck with the little shit as much as we do.”  
  
Shadows grumbled sliding his aviators from his back pocket and slipping them onto his face. Then he focused his concealed eyes on the lead guitarist, brow furrowed.  _How I treat Christ is none of your concern, Gates. And for your information...I sent him on an errand. He’ll be back in time for the show tonight_. He opened his mind to the others.  _Now, let’s move. Otherwise, none of us gets to feed._  
  
 _Yeah, and that’d be fucking sacrilege..._  Synyster sneered. Shadows moved in a blur; before the younger gang member realised he was pinned against the wall with the huge male’s fangs buried in his throat. He gasped and clawed at Shadows’ shoulders trying to push him away.  
  
His leader snarled sinking his canines in deeper.  _I’ll bleed you fucking dry, Gates..._  
  
Zacky and The Rev darted forward and seized his arms pulling him away.  
  
“Fuck, Matt...don’t do that...” The Rev squeezed the larger male’s broad shoulders sending in a soothing rush of power. Shadows growled but backed off readjusting his shades and then vanishing from the room.  
  
Syn leaned against the wall pressing his fingertips to the two holes in the side of his neck, catching his breath and forcing the wounds to heal. The Rev sighed shaking his head.  
  
Zacky shot the tall vampire a disgruntled look. “How come you can get away with calling him that?”  
  
The Rev smirked. “I’m older than him.” He jerked his head. “Come on, Matt’s right. We need to feed.” With that, the lanky vamp vanished.  
  
Zacky sighed and disappeared after him. Syn, still rubbing at his neck, left out the door instead of dematerialising. He had to let the Berry brothers [the gang’s trusted crew posing as the band’s roadies] know the guys were off to feed.  
  
 **** _Montreal City  
  
Furniture Specialists Lycan Ltd  
  
5 PM_  
  
 _He gives me the biggest fucking headaches..._  Johnny Christ slouched against a wall gazing at the man seated opposite. He was a large broad-shouldered male known only as Alpha. In Montreal City, he was a business magnate who was extremely influential and had a lot of power over the economy. And, he just so happened to be a Werewolf and Christ’s closest ally.  
  
He lifted an eyebrow at the younger male seated before him.  _But, he’s good to you...  
  
Hah, only because I owe him my life._ Johnny paused, memories, from long ago, flickering in his mind. There had been a huge number of Werewolves in southern California back when he was a pup. Eighty odd years ago, the vampires had destroyed most of them during the long and bloody war between the two species. The war had been going on for eons, long before Johnny was born, even before Shadows had entered the world. Johnny was trapped and held captive, but for some inexplicable reason his life had been spared.  _He should’ve killed me, had me killed. But, instead he took me as his...servant. And most of the time it sucks._  
  
Johnny shifted position scratching at the tip of his nose.  
  
Alpha, chuckled. “Well,” he spoke aloud. “You wouldn’t be here at any rate if Shadows had killed you.”  
  
“No, you’re right. I wouldn’t.” Johnny’s own voice was raw sounding as if he hadn’t used it for a while. He coughed a little. “So, Patrick won’t see me?”  
  
The alpha sighed. “He says he needs a little time.”  
  
Johnny groaned. “There’s no time. Shads wants his son.”  
  
“Does he know who he is?”  
  
The younger werewolf shook his head. “No. He has no idea...if he knew I was withholding that information from him...” Johnny shuddered slightly, images of what his master would do to him if he found out the truth flooding his mind. He pushed them away roughly and glanced at the man before him. “It doesn’t bear thinking...”  
  
Alpha nodded. “I told Pat we’d give him two days. Time enough for him to explain Pierre’s situation to him.”  
  
Johnny licked his lips. “Pierre Bouvier...who would’ve thought.”  
  
The elder male chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Not the most likely candidate to be spawn of the Sanders’ clan...but, these things do happen.”  
  
Johnny scratched at his nose again. “I need to be back in Toronto by seven...”  
  
Alpha frowned, worry passing in his deep brown eyes. “How will Shadows take to you not showing up with the goods?”  
  
Johnny sucked at his bottom lip then let out a low growl. “Not well...but...I can handle it.”  
  
“You sure? I could always send some of the Brother’s with you.”  
  
The Brothers were the Werewolves that were high up in the business world. In Montreal City, and in all other big cities of the world for that matter, Werewolves had assimilated into the human population extremely well. They did not look out of place in the high-rolling world of big money, politics and even the music and film industry, and they all had each other’s back, no matter the circumstances.  
  
“No. They need to stay here. Stay in touch with Patrick.” Johnny breathed out harshly. “I’ll be back tomorrow...or the next day. Whenever he’s ready to talk.”  
  
Alpha nodded brushing his fingers through reddish-brown strands of hair. “You could go down to Laval yourself...”  
  
Johnny shrugged as he pushed away from the wall, making ready to leave. “We’ll see how things go.” He gave a sour smirk. “Gotta survive tonight first...first of several big shows in Toronto...”  
  
Alpha cocked his head to one side, dark eyes narrowing. He sensed that what Johnny was actually worried about was surviving Shadows’ wrath. That was much more terrifying than playing a show in front of a thousand screaming fans. Still, he knew Johnny was tough. He descended from a long line of powerful Werewolves and time would reveal the young one’s potential.  
  
“Good luck with that. Not that I think you need it...you do amazing things with that bass.”  
  
A proud smile touched the corners of Johnny’s lips. “Yeah, I guess I do.”  
  
He nodded, patting at his pockets ensuring he had his never-ending pack of cigarettes. Then with a nod to the Alpha, he vanished from his presence.

 


	5. Faithful Friends

_**Sunday May 11th, 2008  
  
Laval  
  
Mont Royale Public Park  
  
Dog Off-leash area  
  
9 AM**_  
  
Pierre and Pat sat on a park bench watching as Stuey, Mare’s French bulldog, wandered around the trees sniffing at every tiny little scent he could find. The two men had come out here to while away the hours. It was a Sunday morning and neither man had felt like going to church with their families. Not because they didn’t believe but because they had both spent all day Saturday with aforementioned families and felt more like spending time outside.  
  
The rest of the guys were scheduled to meet them around lunchtime when they were going to try for a second time bowling. This time without Pierre fainting on them.  
  
Pat glanced sideways at his friend. “How did you do yesterday?”  
  
“Hmmm?” Pierre was staring at a rose on the other side of the park noticing the strong scent that wafted toward him. He met Pat’s questioning expression. “Yesterday?”  
  
Pat nodded, leaning back against the wooden slats of the bench. “Yeah. Anymore funny episodes?”  
  
Pierre looked thoughtful for a long moment. “No. Come to think of it...no more blinding headaches...I guess the aspirin did help with that.” He bit his bottom lip. “I did have this sudden craving for red meat though. Dad cooked a barbecue...and you know what’s weird?”  
  
“What?” Pat tilted his head giving his friend a curious glance.  
  
“Well, normally I have my meat medium to well done...but yesterday I practically ate it right off the cow.”  
  
“Rare?”  
  
“Yeah...”  
  
Pat shivered slightly, tingles racing up and down his spine.  _Blood cravings..._  
  
 ** _He’ll need to feed soon...ask him if his teeth have been aching..._**  
  
 _Yeah, right...how the fuck am I s’posed to ask that without looking crazy?_  
  
 ** _Just do it, Pat._**  
  
 _Okay...Okay..._  He shifted on the bench turning his eyes back to Stuey. The small yet muscled dog had his head stuck in some bushes making soft snuffling noises. Pat watched him before speaking again. “Hey, can I ask a weird question?”  
  
Pierre smirked. “A weird question?” He brushed a hand through his scruffy hair then smoothed it along his left arm, fingering the ink absently.  
  
“Yeah, you been getting a strange feeling in your...uh...mouth, lately?”  
  
Pierre blinked staring hard at his friend wondering at the query. He sucked at his teeth lightly. As he did so, a dull throb began pulsing at the base of his canines.  
  
He scrunched up his face, rubbing at his jaw. “Fuck...” He mumbled, “I am right now...”  
  
Pat sat forward on the bench, just as Stuey suddenly started barking furiously. The two men turned around to see what the commotion was. They both blinked; Pierre in shock, forgetting for a moment about the ache in his mouth; Pat in bewilderment. Standing in front of Stuey backed against a tree was the largest dog either man had ever seen.  
  
Of course it took Pat a mere second to realise that, one, it was a Were not a dog; and two, that he knew who that Were was.  _Christ...what the hell are you doing here?_  
  
The Werewolf snarled at Stuey, who instantly backed off still barking but doing it quietly. Then it turned deep brown eyes to the two men.  
  
Pierre sat frozen to the bench staring in disbelief at the huge animal. Its fur was rough looking, dark grey all over except for the underbelly, which was a shade lighter. Pat got to his feet and began to walk toward the large dog. Pierre blinked then stood as well opening his mouth to tell his friend to be careful. Then he watched in surprise as Pat got down on his knees and took the massive animal’s head in his hands, pressing his forehead against its fur and closing his eyes.  
  
The Werewolf rumbled in its throat, nudging at Pat’s hands.  _I thought I’d come see how things were going...and let you know that there’s only so long I can keep my master from knowing Pierre’s identity._  
  
Pat bit his bottom lip hard.  _If Shadows finds out...  
  
You need to explain everything to Pierre..._  Johnny waved his tail from side to side, then his muzzle wrinkled, lips pulling back from his teeth.  _He needs to feed..._  
  
Pat swallowed hard glancing back at Pierre who now had his face in his hands, jaw clenched tight as if trying to hold back some hidden pain.  
  
“Shit...” Pat muttered loud enough for his friend to hear.  
  
Pierre looked up and glowered back at him. “What?” His voice was thick with a need he didn’t even realise he had. Pat got up and walked back to his friend getting down on the ground in front of him. “Pat? What are you doing?” Confusion clouded Pierre’s eyes.  
  
Pat stared up at him. “Tell me where it hurts, Pierre.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Where does it hurt?”  
  
Pierre clenched his jaw then opened his mouth slightly. “What the fuck do you-”  
  
“Pierre just fuckin’ tell me!” The desperate tone to his friend’s voice made him jump slightly but Pierre decided to answer the question.  
  
“My teeth...” He pressed his fingertips to the front of his mouth. Then he cast a wary glance at the large dog, wolf, whatever the hell it was. Johnny padded closer and sat back on his haunches, tongue lolling out of his mouth. Pierre scowled. “What’s up with the dog?”  
  
“I’m not a dog, Bouvier.” The voice that issued from the creature’s jaws distorted due to the large teeth.  
  
Pierre backed up on the bench eyes widening slightly. “Did...did you just...” He shook his head and glanced at Pat. “Tell me that...that...animal didn’t just...”  
  
Pat sighed, “Yes, he did. Look, Pierre...there’s something I need to tell you. And...it’s not going to be easy to...digest.” He glanced at Johnny. “Maybe you should stick to telepathy...”  
  
 _Yeah...I sound much better like this..._  
  
Pierre swallowed passed a lump that had formed in his throat. “You just...”  
  
The Were turned his head to look at him.  _You’ll get used to it. I’m sure Pat’s been doing it to you too._  
  
Pierre frowned and shot his friend a sharp look. “At the bowling...”  
  
Pat smiled weakly. “Yeah, at the bowling.” He shifted so he was sitting on the ground. “Look, I think I should start with Johnny here.” He tilted his head toward the large animal.  
  
Pierre followed his gaze and pursed his lips together, kneading at them slowly. “Johnny...?”  
  
Pat nodded slowly. “Johnny here...is a Werewolf.”  
  
The singer stiffened expression sceptical. “Pull the other one.”  
  
 _It’s the truth, Bouvier. Once every month I get all shaggy and howl piteously to the moon._  There was a hint of sarcasm to the Were’s tone.  
  
Pierre couldn’t help but laugh. “Funny...”  
  
 _I thought so._  Johnny thumped his tail against the ground.  
  
Pat rolled his eyes, licking nervously at his lips. “Well, that’s not all...um...you’ve heard of Avenged Sevenfold, right?”  
  
Pierre leaned back against the bench. “Yeah, of course. They’re only the best crossover band out there on MTV.” He squinted at his friend. “What of it?”  
  
Johnny’s ears twitched forward and he let out a soft growl.  _I’m the bassist. Johnny Christ._  
  
“Holy...” Pierre shivered a little staring hard at the Werewolf. “You’re in Avenged...do they know that you’re...” He trailed off not sure what he was really trying to ask. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he believed what he was hearing; perhaps it was all just a crazy dream he would wake up from. He blinked rapidly then stared hard at his friend.  
  
Pat snorted getting up and moving to sit on the bench again. “They all know. Which brings me to the important part of all this. You.”  
  
“Me...?”  
  
“Yes, Pierre. All these weird things that have been happening...they’re um...not gonna go away anytime soon...”  
  
Pierre stood up abruptly. “What? But, it’s driving me mad...I can hear this fucking rushing of water-”  
  
Johnny cut in.  _That’s not water you’re hearing..._  
  
“What the hell is it then?” The singer was beginning to feel agitated.  
  
The Were made a sighing sound and padded closer nudging his nose against Pierre’s knee.  _It’s the sound of blood travelling through the veins and arteries of the people around you._  Johnny hesitated before continuing.  _You can hear it because...you’re um...a vampire...an immature one...but still..._  
  
Pierre went white as a sheet as a tremor shook his body. He sank back down on the bench grasping the edge tightly.  
  
He bit his bottom lip hard, squeezing his eyes shut tight. “No...no...I’m going crazy...this is just fucking...unreal...” He was trembling now the colour fading from his skin.  
  
Pat growled under his breath.  _Holy shit...this isn’t good..._  
  
Johnny snarled pressing his nose against Pierre’s knee.  _He needs to fucking feed..._  
  
Pat shuddered.  _But...his fangs haven’t even..._  
  
 _They will if he tastes blood in his mouth._  Johnny rumbled in his chest and nudged Pierre again. _Bouvier..._  
  
Pierre jerked away. “Don’t touch me...” His teeth were aching even more now, the pain throbbing savagely.  
  
Pat could almost feel his friend’s pain. He glanced down at Johnny.  _What do I do? It’s not like we can go attack someone..._  
  
Johnny growled again.  _Your blood will do._  
  
Pat frowned.  _Mine...?_  
  
The Were nodded gently.  _Go on..._  
  
Pat sighed and dug in his back pocket for the switchblade he always carried there. Pulling it out and snapping it open, he made a small cut vertically down his wrist.  
  
Pierre noticed and scowled through his pain. “What are you doing?”  
  
Pat didn’t answer instead thrusting his wrist close to his friend’s mouth. “Here...”  
  
“What?” The singer recoiled.  
  
Pat groaned. “Pierre...just...please...”  
  
Pierre blinked slowly but something deep inside him compelled him to take the proffered wrist. He moved forward as if in a dream and pressed his mouth to the open cut. The copper taste of blood hit him like a tidal wave. It overwhelmed all his senses and the throbbing in his mouth eased as an entirely different sensation took over.  
  
Pat deliberately pressed his wrist harder against Pierre’s teeth, trickles of blood stimulating his salivary glands. That was enough to trigger the transformation. Pierre’s body stiffened as he felt his canines elongate and sharpen.  
  
His eyes widened, but before he could pull back, Pat caught hold of a clump of his hair and held him in place. “You have to drink, Pierre...”  
  
 _What the fuck..._  
  
“Drink, Pierre...you won’t hurt me...”  
  
Pierre hesitated; Pat pressed his wrist insistently against his mouth. The singer groaned but finally succumbed to the sickly sweet tang of his friend’s blood and began to suck at the cut. After several minutes, he pulled back a satisfied feeling welling in the pit of his stomach.  
  
He blinked several times then tilted his head as he noticed Pat licking lightly at the wound. “What’re you doing?”  
  
Pat looked up at the question. “It seals faster if I lick it...”  
  
“Oh...” He paused slowly running his tongue around the inside of his mouth, pressing it against his newly formed fangs. “Damn it, I really am...”  
  
“Yeah, you are.” Pat gave a light chuckle. “Those are real, so be careful not to bite yourself.”  
  
Pierre sat back on the bench once more and let out a loud sigh. “Fuck...”  
  
 _Indeed. Well, this has been interesting...but I need to go back to Montreal City...then back to TO..._  
  
Pierre looked at the Werewolf. “Toronto?”  
  
 _Yeah, Avenged is performing several shows there. So, I gotta be present to play bass._  
  
“And they know that you’re a werewolf?” The singer was still confused by that notion.  
  
Pat smirked. “They know. But, how they know is a whole other story.”  
  
 _As is the fact that you’re a Were, as well._  
  
Pierre’s eyebrows shot up. “What?” He looked at his friend. “You too?”  
  
Pat smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, me too. But, that’s a long story.” He brushed his hands on his jeans. “I’ll have to tell you about that some other time. I think you’ve got enough to think about right now.”  
  
Pierre decided he would have to agree with his friend’s sentiment. So much was rushing through his mind; he didn’t think he could contain his thoughts.  
  
Raking fingers through his hair, he looked down at Johnny again. “Guess...I’ll be seeing you then?”  
  
The great animal bobbed his head up and down, tongue lolling from his mouth.  _Yeah...on tour maybe..._  
  
Pat reached down and stroked the tips of his fingers across the nape of the Were’s neck. Johnny rumbled then turned and loped across the grass without a sound. Pierre tilted his head; Pat leaned back, and Stuey scrambled out of the bushes he’d hidden under after he’d quit his barking.  
  
“Stuey...c’mere...” Pat held out both hands. The little dog raced over and jumped into his arms, tucking his head into the man’s chest.  
  
Pierre smiled faintly, still licking lightly along his fangs. “So, you’re a werewolf?”  
  
Pat nodded without meeting his friend’s eyes. “Yeah.”  
  
Pierre crossed his arms, frowning. “How did...um...” he bit his lip. “How’d you know...about me?”  
  
Pat rubbed at his cheek shaking his head. “I’ve always known, Pierre.” He stood suddenly becoming agitated. “It’s...hard to explain.”  
  
He glanced across the park, the opposite direction Johnny had gone. Pierre craned his neck around to see what his friend was looking at. His nostrils’ flared as four different scents suddenly assaulted them. Coming towards them, the bassist right at the front bouncing toward them as was his wont, were the rest of the band.  
  
Pierre snarled under his breath, the whooshing of the four men’s blood causing his hunger to rise slightly.  
  
Pat sensed the sudden tension in the vamp’s body and reached out to him, pressing a hand to Pierre’s shoulder.  _Don’t Pierre...you can’t feed from them...they’re our friends..._  
  
Pierre sucked in his breath, harshly.  _Fuck...I can smell their blood..._  
  
Pat lifted his eyes to the sky sending a silent prayer to the Powers-that-be then he stood and walked toward the others. “Hey, you’re early...”  
  
David grinned, “I can’t wait to beat your asses at bowling.”  
  
Pat shook his head. “I think we should grab something to eat first.” He glanced back toward Pierre.  _If you get some meat into you, it’ll ease the hunger...a little..._  
  
Pierre bit his bottom lip, being careful not to reveal his fangs. He had a feeling that they weren’t going away anytime soon. He tilted his head concentrating his mind on Pat. Focusing he found that he could triangulate his thoughts and send them out in a strong line of communication. It was just like talking except he didn’t need to open his mouth.  
  
 _Who smells of strawberries?_  
  
Pat started slightly at the sound of Pierre’s voice in his head. Then he smirked faintly as he turned his eyes back to the others, responding to his friend’s question at the same time slapping David on the shoulder and adding that he bet he could beat the bassist.  
  
 _You’ll have to figure that one out...what else do you smell?_  
  
Pierre stood, joining them smiling at his friends and joining in the banter whilst continuing his silent conversation with Pat.  _Burgundy rum, icing sugar...fish...and uh...dog..._  
  
Pat cast a sharp look at Pierre.  _I do not smell of dog. I’d think I was a little less of the domesticated smell...  
  
Maybe it’s Stuey I’m smelling then?  
  
No...that would be me..._  Pat looked back at the others. “So, lunch?”  
  
Chuck shrugged. “Sure, I never had breakfast at any rate.”  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes and laughed, “Typical. Always too busy to do anything important for yourself. Seriously, you’ll kill yourself one day.”  
  
Chuck snorted and slapped Pierre on the shoulder. His eyes watered a little at the closeness to fresh human blood.  
  
Pat noticed and stepped very close to him and gripped his left elbow firmly, squeezing hard.  _Bite your tongue, Bouvier...you can’t lose control now...you won’t be able to handle it..._  
  
Pierre did as Pat suggested sinking a fang into his tongue. The taste of his own blood was alien to him; the copper he expected was something else entirely.  
  
However, it did ease his need a little, and he relaxed.  _Thanks, bud...  
  
Welcome._  Pat slapped a hand against his thigh. “Right, come on then. Can’t just stand here.”  
  
“You going to drop Stuey back to Mare’s first?” Jeff nodded to the little dog still snuggled into Pat’s chest.  
  
“Nah, no need. The place I’m thinking has let me in with Stuey before.”  
  
Pierre grinned suddenly. “De Angelo’s Deli? Chelle’s taken Delilah in there several times. Gino’s fed her some of his best cuts of salami.” He chortled adding after a second’s pause, “Delilah that is, not Chelle.”  
  
The other’s laughed.  
  
“Come on then,” Chuck smirked.  
  
Sebastien poked his head over Pat’s shoulder. “Speaking of Chelle, she emailed June and said she’s coming back tonight. Her last art showing was cancelled...due to funding or something so she’s coming home now rather than in two weeks.”  
  
Pierre blinked jaw tightening ever so little.  _Shit..._ ”Fantastic, I can’t wait to see her. It’s been too fucking long...”  
  
Only Pat sensed his friend’s anxiety at his fiancée’s arrival and he knew what the reason was for that.  
  
He squeezed Pierre’s elbow again then dropped his hand.  _It’ll be okay..._  He stretched shifting Stuey’s weight in his arms. “Okay, enough yammering, let’s get out of here.”  
  
The others’ agreed wholeheartedly and the six men traipsed across the park glad just to spend time not having to worry about anything. They did not do enough of it, and unbeknownst to them they were going to have to make the most of it. That storm was approaching ever closer.

 


	6. Bloodlust

_**Monday May 12th, 2008  
  
Laval Domestic Terminal  
  
Arrival Concourse  
  
10 AM**_  
  
As she stepped out the doors that lead to the baggage collection a young blonde woman scanned the large hall searching for her significant other.  
  
“Lachelle!”  
  
The woman swept her eyes across the baggage collection hall once more and her eyes shone when they fell upon a group of six men standing near carousel number four. The tallest of the group was the one who had called her name. His dark scruffy hair looked unbrushed, the T-shirt he wore old and worn, and the jeans that hung loose on his hips were fraying around the ankles. Yet, she didn’t care; she loved the man for all his faults. After all, she did accept his proposal.  
  
Clutching her purse, she hurried across the polished linoleum flooring her heels clicking lightly.  
  
“Pierre!” She dropped her purse at the feet of the five other men and rushed to throw herself into her fiancé’s arms. He caught her by the waist and swung her around a broad smile on his full lips.  
  
Setting her back down on her feet, he leaned in close and placed a tender kiss on the corner of her mouth. “Missed you, sweetie...”  
  
Lachelle smiled softly, light brown eyes sparkling. “Me too...”  
  
David poked his head around her shoulder. “You missed you too?”  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes. “No, you dick. She missed me.”  
  
The bassist pouted. “What about me? Did you miss me?”  
  
“Hell no!” Pierre laughed.  
  
Lachelle slapped his shoulder lightly. “I think he meant me, Pierre.”  
  
Pierre chuckled stroking a hand lightly through her long blonde locks. “Of course. And yes...of course Chelle missed you, Davo. She missed all of us, right?” He met her warm gaze.  
  
She smiled, brushing stray strands of hair from her face. “It always feels like I’ve lost my best friends when I go to TO.”  
  
“Awww...” Seb came up and squeezed her around the waist. “You know, you’ll always be our best friend.”  
  
Jeff and Chuck nodded agreeing with the younger man’s sentiment. Pat, who was hanging back slightly, didn’t add a comment; he was preoccupied. His concentration firmly fixed on Pierre. Unknown to the rest of the guys, Pat was basically babysitting the pubescent vampire ensuring he didn’t lose control of his faculties.  
  
A young vampire was extremely dangerous if he or she was not under constant watch. It was even more dangerous if the vampire was going through puberty amongst people who had no idea of his or her true nature.  
  
“Pat?” Jeff waved his hand in front of his friend’s face.  
  
Pat blinked, forcing his mind from Pierre for a moment. “Huh? What’s that?”  
  
Lachelle smiled softly. “Hello, Patrick.”  
  
“Oh, Chelle.” He grinned but it appeared forced.  
  
She tilted her head. “Something wrong, hun?”  
  
Pat shook his head. “No.”  _Just your fiancé being a vampire who could attack you if I don’t keep an eye on him..._  He glanced back at his friend, who was standing a little behind Lachelle.  
  
When he’d arrived at Pierre’s earlier that morning, the immature vampire had been chewing on a dead squirrel an extremely frustrated expression on his face. Pat of course had quickly surmised the reason behind his expression and had offered his vein to the larger male.  
  
Pierre had practically torn into his wrist and drained as much of the sickly red stuff that he could possibly get without knocking Pat out. Luckily, being a Werewolf increased Pat’s tolerance to blood loss.  
  
Of course, the fact that his friend had needed his blood to quench his thirst could mean only one thing. The blood of herbivorous creatures would never be enough to slake Pierre’s appetite. This meant he could be very dangerous to any human who got too close to him when he was thirsty.  
  
Pierre shifted his weight and glanced across the baggage carousel that was moving slowly around. “Which bag is yours, Chelle?”  
  
Lachelle moved to stand next to him and leaned forward. She watched as several bags moved passed then pointed at a light beige suitcase that had a red ribbon tied to the handle. “There.”  
  
Pierre stepped forward and lifted the bag easily from the carousel. However, he made a show of effort, grunting slightly. “Ooof...what have you got in here? The kitchen sink?”  
  
Lachelle rolled her eyes. “That got old after the first time you said it.”  
  
Pierre smirked and wrapped his free arm around her waist, squeezing slightly. “You know you love me...”  
  
She giggled, leaning her head against his shoulder and pressing a hand against his chest. Pierre bit his lip, the overwhelming scent of spices and cinnamon wafting up to his nostrils; and then the scintillating aroma of fresh blood hit him, and his salivary glands began to work overtime. He swallowed hard as his vision went a little hazy. He swung his head away, clenching his jaw tight.  
  
Pat instantly sensed the change in his friend’s demeanour and moved forward to tap Lachelle on the shoulder. “Hey, can I get a hug?” He gave her puppy dog eyes, which, now that Pierre knew what his friend really was, really did look like the kind of sad pleading look a dog would have on its face.  
  
Lachelle laughed and moved out of Pierre’s grasp to hug the other man. The other members of the band took that as a signal to swamp her and she found herself in the midst of five men other than her fiancé.  
  
Pierre took that moment to settle his nerves and bite at his tongue to ease the hunger that had filled his mind. This was what he’d been most anxious about when with his fiancée. The need to feed became stronger when he was around his friends and sure Pat could probably prevent him from attacking them [and Lachelle] when they were together as a group, but as soon as Lachelle wanted to be alone with him, he knew he would have to rely on his own self-will to control his urges.  
  
Taking several deep breaths, he shifted his grip on the suitcase handle. “Right,” he spoke over the huddle around his fiancée, “Let’s get outta here, we spend enough time in an airport to sink a battleship...I want to leave.”  
  
Lachelle laughed, prying her slender frame from the other men and walking toward Pierre a tiny smirk gracing her lips. “Can’t wait to get home.” She gave Pierre a coy look.  
  
The big man swallowed hard, pupils dilating in anticipation and hunger. He forced the latter feeling down, his stomach trembling a little. “Right, let’s go then. I came in my car...so we can go separately from the rest of the guys...”  
  
Pat stiffened.  _Not a good idea, Pierre..._  
  
Pierre scowled at him. “What?”  
  
 _Nothing..._  Pat just shook his head at his friend, staring hard at him.  
  
Lachelle glanced between the two men. “Uh, Hun...I don’t think Pat said anything.”  
  
Pierre smiled squeezing her around the waist again. “I must’ve been hearing things, then. Come on.” He turned and steered her toward the exit trying to ignore the silent mutterings coming from his friend.  
  
 _So not a good idea...not a good idea..._  
  
 _ **Toronto  
  
Hilton  
  
Room 666  
  
11:15 AM**_  
  
 _Master...?_  
  
Shadows glanced up from the Alternative Press magazine he was perusing. Johnny had just materialised in the centre of the small hotel room.  
  
The vampire frowned, shifting where he lay propped on the bed. “What have you got for me?”  
  
Johnny hesitated as if only just realising where he’d appeared. He shook his head and looked toward Shadows a wary light in his dark eyes. “Nothing yet...” His tone was hesitant. “I know where he is though.”  
  
“Where?” Shadows kept his voice light, shutting the magazine and swinging his feet off the bed and onto the floor.  
  
Johnny shifted nervously beneath the vampire’s scrutiny. “Laval, Montreal.” He paused, licking his lips; his mouth was dry. “My contact...” He stopped. He didn’t want to say too much otherwise Shadows would realise he was lying.  
  
“You know, you’ve never told me who it is you know in Montreal.” The vampire’s voice hardened.  
  
Johnny avoided his questioning stare. “You don’t need to know.”  
  
“Is that right? You belong to me don’t forget that. I want to know.”  
  
“It’s not anyone important, Shadows.”  
  
Shadows stood and glowered at the smaller man. “Then it shouldn’t be such an issue. Tell me who it is.”  
  
Johnny swallowed hard fighting not to shrink back from his master. “Allan. His name is Allan. He’s a furniture dealer.” His heart rate increased and his breath caught in the back of his throat as he prayed fervently that Shadows would believe him.  
  
The larger male stared narrowly at him, but after several tense seconds, he nodded and waved a hand at him. “You can leave now.”  
  
“Should I go back to Montreal?”  
  
Shadows sucked on his bottom lip, rubbing at the tip of his nose. “No. We have an interview at Much Music. Then a signing. So, it’ll have to wait.”  
  
Johnny nodded slightly. “Of course...shall I go then?”  
  
Shadows didn’t respond having turned to a platter of cheese that was on the nightstand. Sighing, Johnny vanished leaving his master in peace.  
  
 _ **Noon  
  
Much Music Studio**_  
  
 _Patrick is anxious..._  
  
 _About what, Alpha?_  Johnny sat on a stool loosely clutching a microphone in his hands watching as the Much Music host asked Shadows and Synyster questions about the band’s recent album. At the same time, he was having a silent conference with his MC contact.  
  
 _Pierre’s fiancée...he doesn’t want to leave the two of them alone._  
  
 _Worried Pierre will attack her? Hasn’t he fed?_  
  
 _Pat says he hasn’t fed properly since the first when you were there...oh wait...um...anyway... ._  
  
 _Oh, yeah...Pat got Pierre to feed from him..._  
  
“Johnny.”  
  
He blinked as Zacky waved a hand in front of his face. He realised he’d just missed a question. “Sorry, what was that?”  
  
The host, a blonde woman with a bright smile, giggled; Johnny thought her name was Leah if he remembered correctly. “Do you get a lot of flak for being the smallest guy in the band?”  
  
Johnny shrugged. “They’re always making jokes about it.”  
  
 _Always? How about every single chance they get._  
  
 _Don’t tease, Alpha..._  
  
Shadows smirked. “Can I say ‘short shit’ on live TV?”  
  
“You could say ‘short stuff’,” The Rev snorted.  
  
Synyster shifted on his stool and growled low. “Short ‘shit’ sounds so much better, though.”  
  
Leah laughed. “You’re allowed to say whatever you want.”  
  
Shadows smirked cruelly. “What? Even ‘fuck’?”  
  
The host winced slightly.  
  
Zacky groaned palming his face. “Jeeze, Shads...within reason, man...”  
  
The singer chuckled softly. “Well, I was only asking, V.”  
  
Johnny was about to add his two cents worth when Alpha’s voice assaulted his mind.  ** _Johnny! Code Red...get your ass to Bouvier’s place._**  
  
 _Oh...shit..._  He glanced toward Shadows; the larger male caught his look from the corner of his eye.  
  
 _What is it, pup?  
  
I have to go...  
  
Go?  
  
Back to MC..._ “Uh...sorry to cut this short...but I gotta go pee...”  
  
Shadows rolled his eyes. “I’m sure the fans didn’t want to know that, Christ.”  _Now? Why?  
  
Uh...your son...he’s um...available..._ Johnny got off his stool. “Sorry, Leah...”  
  
“No, that’s fine,” she smiled warmly. “You don’t want to leak in your pants or something.”  
  
The other guys laughed. Johnny put on a show of being annoyed at their laughter as he headed out of view of the cameras and the studio audience.  
  
Shadows’ mind followed him.  _Report back ASAP.  
  
Will do..._ As soon as he was concealed, the Werewolf vanished from the studio making haste to Laval.  
  
 _ **Half an hour before...  
  
Bouvier Residence**_  
  
Pat scrounged through the Bouvier’s refrigerator. Jay leaned against the kitchen counter, observing him silently.  
  
“Aha! How old is this cheese?” Pat pulled a foil wrapped block of blue vein cheese. It smelt off, however one could never tell due to the large blue veins running through and over the yellowing flesh.  
  
Pierre’s elder brother just shrugged. “No idea.” He glanced back down the hallway leading to Pierre’s room. “What do you think those two are up to?”  
  
“Huh?” Pat had his head back in the fridge, sniffing slightly attempting to find the owner of a particularly intriguing scent.  
  
Jay pulled the door open wider. “Pierre and Chelle...what do you think they’re doing?”  
  
Pat looked at him. “They’re in love...they haven’t seen each other in months. What do you think they’re doing?” That’s what he said aloud. Silently he added,  _I don’t care as long as he doesn’t try to feed fro-_  
  
Something warped in the air, an awful tightness gripped Pat’s heart. He pulled out of the fridge slamming the door shut. “Uh...thanks for the...uh...cheese. I have to go, see ya, Jay.”  
  
He hurried out the front door before Pierre’s brother could respond to his abrupt goodbyes.  
  
Jay blinked. “Um...right...see ya, Pat...” He shook his head and went into the living room to watch TV.  
  
Pat skirted the garden bed along the side of the house until he reached the window that he knew looked into Pierre’s room. He hesitated, steeling himself for what he was about to see. Then moving closer to the window he sank to a crouch and peered under the hem of the curtain into the room beyond.  
  
Lachelle gasped as Pierre pushed her down onto his bed massaging his hands down her sides. The couple had just been quietly cuddling on the bed, talking about random stuff, work, her studies’, Pierre’s band, how much they’d missed each other. Then, Pierre had begun to touch her lightly, nuzzling into the nape of her neck and murmuring sweet nothings’ into her ear.  
  
Lachelle had welcomed his little attentions until he began to pull at her top. That was when she decided she wasn’t quite ready to succumb to whatever needs her fiancé had right then. After all, she had only just arrived; she was tired and probably a little smelly from the flight over. So, she pulled away from him, which if Pierre had not been in the state that he was, seriously hungry tense vampiric puberty phase, would have been fine. However, the big male was beginning to become extremely thirsty and, couple that with an overzealous sex drive, he was suddenly a lethal weapon not to be trusted.  
  
Unfortunately, for Lachelle she had no clue and so all she could do was gasp in shock as Pierre shoved her against the bed, pinned her beneath his hard body and ground roughly into her stomach, snarling low in the back of his throat.  
  
“Pierre...?” She tried to push at his chest; he would not budge. His body was as solid as a steel wall. He growled grabbing her wrists in one hand and pinioning them to the bed. She moaned and twisted beneath him, body tensing as she felt the bulge in his jeans growing.  
  
Pierre groaned at the feel of her lithe body wriggling beneath his. The spicy aroma of her blood filled his nostrils and he felt his canines’ beginning to ache. He needed to feed. He bent his head down and nuzzled into her neck, pressing his lips along her throat just where her jugular ran beneath the surface. Lachelle gave a soft whimper and bucked under him.  
  
“Pierre...stop...” She tried to break out of his iron grasp on her arms. “Pierre...” Her tone became panicked. He hissed silently then parted his lips the tips of his fangs glistening with his saliva. Lachelle’s eyes widened but before she could scream or say anything, Pierre bit into her neck and began to pull at the blood in her vein.  
  
Pat, who was on the other side of the window, peering in, had seen enough. He snarled under his breath then casting a quick glance over his shoulder, and sending a silent message to anyone who would listen, he vanished from one side of the window and appeared as silent as a wraith in his friend’s bedroom.  
  
 _Pierre...let her go..._  
  
Pierre snarled without removing his fangs from her neck, Lachelle had gone limp beneath his body, head averted, eyes glazed over a little. Her breasts rose and fell unsteadily and her arms were resting loosely above her head. Pierre was no longer holding onto her wrists and was instead stroking both his hands up and down her sides as he fed.  
  
 _ **PIERRE!!**_  Pat’s mind was a steel bell in Pierre’s ears. The vampire groaned and pulled his head back. His fangs were tinged with Lachelle’s blood and his eyes were glowing. Pat shuddered, his own widening in shock. Pierre’s irises’ were no longer their usual deep brown; they were a fiery red colour burning furiously.  
  
 _Pierre..._  Pat shivered.  _Get away from her..._  
  
Pierre gritted out harshly, “I need to feed.”  
  
Pat shook his head just as Johnny Christ made an appearance, this time in human form.  
  
 _Pat...get him away from his fiancée...make him take your vein...I’ll make sure she’s okay..._  
  
Pierre glowered at the shorter male. “What the Hell is this?”  
  
Johnny smirked weakly. “An intervention. Get away from Lachelle.”  
  
“No.”  
  
He sighed and shot a look at Pat, who moved faster than even Pierre could imagine, tackling the larger male away from the bed and forcing his wrist against his fangs. “Bite.”  
  
Pierre would have ignored the command, except that his hunger overrode his annoyance at his friend, and so he bit savagely into his vein, sucking hard at the honey sweet blood that filled his mouth.  
  
For a moment, Johnny watched him then turned his attention to the blonde woman on the bed. Lachelle was beginning to stir.  
  
He moved to sit next to her, placing a soothing hand on her arm. “Easy...”  
  
She flinched, staring at him. “Who...”  
  
“Just a friend.” He pulled his hands back. “Johnny Christ.”  
  
Lachelle swallowed hard locking eyes with him, trembling. “How did you...”  
  
“Long story. Let’s just say, Pat let me in.”  
  
She frowned. “Pat?”  
  
She sat up more and leaned passed the short man to see what was going on. Her eyes widened in horror at the scene in front of her and she brought her hands to her mouth.  
  
“Oh my God...ohmigod...” She began to shake and Johnny could feel that she was about to be ill.  
  
He gripped her shoulder tugging her around gently. “Don’t look.”  
  
Her bottom lip quavered. “Pierre...I saw...in his mouth...he’s...Pat...” She shook her head. “He...he bit me...”  
  
Johnny rubbed her shoulder lightly sending in a soothing wave of energy.  
  
She wrapped her arms around her breasts, rubbing at her arms. “He...”  
  
“Shhh...” Johnny stroked her hair slowly as she began to rock. She was in shock; the Werewolf couldn’t blame her. To find out about her fiancé in such a horrific manner would definitely be unnerving. To find out at all would not have been easy, but for Pierre to lose control and attack her the way he did, it didn’t bear thinking.  
  
Eventually Pierre finished and pulled away from Pat. The older Werewolf sucked at the wound making it heal faster.  
  
Then he glanced toward the bed.  _How’s she coping?_  
  
Johnny shook his head lightly, shooting an accusing look at Pierre.  _She’s in shock._  
  
Pierre bit his bottom lip allowing a sheepish expression to pass across his features. “Did I hurt her?”  
  
Johnny snapped, “Why don’t you see for yourself, Bouvier.”  
  
Swallowing nervously, Pierre got up off the floor and made his way to sit on the edge of the bed. “Chelle?” His voice was a strained whisper.  
  
She peeked up at him from over her knees. Her pupils were dilated and she was still breathing a little unsteadily. The wound in her throat where he had bitten her had healed, yet there were some marks left where his fangs had hit.  
  
“Pierre...” There was a tremor in her voice. “What’s...what’s going on?”  
  
Pierre drew his breath in roughly, it wasn’t going to be easy but he had to be honest and tell her the truth.  
  
He loved her and she deserved for him to be straight with her. “You’re going to find this hard to believe, sweetie...but...I...” He paused, looking down at his hands. They were pale and trembling slightly.  
  
Lachelle tentatively reached out and took hold of one of them, squeezing it gently. “I’ll try, Pierre...please...tell me?”  
  
Pierre closed his eyes then opened them again, gazing deep into her soft hazel eyes, drowning in them and drawing strength from the love he saw in their depths. “I’m...I’m a vampire...”  
  
Lachelle shifted back but didn’t release his hand. “You’re a what?” There was a hint of disbelief in her voice.  
  
“A vampire...” Pierre bit his lip.  
  
She looked away shaking her head. “You’re joking...”  
  
“No. I’m not. It’s true...” His voice was so quiet she could barely hear him.  
  
She met his serious gaze and licked her lips. “I...” She withdrew her hand from his and stood, smoothing her hands over her clothes. “I need to go home now...”  
  
“Chelle...” Pierre protested weakly.  
  
She couldn’t look at him. Turning to Pat, she bit her lip. “Could you drive me home?”  
  
He shrugged smiling faintly. “Sure. I’ll just go grab my keys.” He shot a look at Perre who sat with his head down, a defeated slump to his shoulders.  _I’ll do some damage control, bud...try and explain everything..._  
  
Pierre nodded without looking up.  _Thanks, Pat...I owe you for that..._  
  
Pat just waved at him then gently took Lachelle’s arm. “Come on. I’ll take you home.” He led her out of Pierre’s room leaving Pierre alone with the smaller Were.  
  
Johnny sighed deeply and shook his head at the vampire. “I need to get back to Toronto...you should think about what just happened and find some way to curb that appetite of yours.”  
  
Pierre nodded again still staring hard at the floor, wishing the earth would just open up and swallow him whole. Johnny sighed and without another word, vanished from the room, leaving the Simple Plan singer alone to ponder his next move.


	7. Unholy Confessions

_**Same Day  
  
Lachelle’s Apartment  
  
2 PM**_  
  
Pat leaned against the kitchen counter watching as Lachelle went around checking that everything was as she remembered before she left for Toronto. She hesitated by Delilah’s food bowl, touching it lightly.  
  
“Must go pick her up from my sister’s...” She murmured quietly to herself.  
  
The expression on her face seemed haunted. Pat didn’t blame her; she was still obviously reeling from what had happened at the Bouvier’s place. Finally, she came back into the kitchen and looked at Pat, the look in her eyes strained, anxious.  
  
Pat gave a small smile. “So...glad to be home?”  
  
Lachelle fiddled with the knob on one of the kitchen drawers not meeting his gaze. “Yeah, I guess so. Toronto, doesn’t feel the same...y’know?”  
  
“Yeah. I know how you mean.” Small talk, not something Pat was good at, at all. He cleared his throat nervously. “So, um...” He scratched at his cheek absently.  
  
Lachelle wasn’t looking at him and that made it extremely difficult for him to read what she was thinking, or feeling.  
  
He drew in a steadying breath, and then blew out slowly. “So,” he repeated numbly. “About...Pierre...”  
  
Lachelle finally looked at him, hazel eyes wet. “Vampires aren’t real, Patrick.” Her tone was hard belying the hurt and disbelief in her eyes. “They’re just fucking fairytales.”  
  
Pat blinked at the swear word. “Chelle...” There was nothing he could say. How did you convince someone that what he or she thought were just little fantasies were in fact as real as the solid ground they walked?  
  
She glared at him. “That’s all. Figments of our imagination.”  
  
“He bit you...” Pat said, lamely.  
  
“So? Doesn’t make him a...vampire...”  
  
“Chelle...his teeth...”  
  
She shook her head. “I was imagining things.”  
  
Pat bit his bottom lip hard, staring at her wondering how in Hell he was going to make her believe him.  
  
 _Change._  
  
 _What? No._  
  
 _Do it, Patrick._  
  
 _No, Dad. That won’t solve anything...it’ll probably freak her out._  
  
 _Do. It. This is not a request, Langlois._  
  
 _But..._  
  
 _Patrick C Langlois, Lachelle needs to believe...Pierre will need her by his side. Do. It. Now._  
  
 _All right. I will. Jesus..._  
  
“Pat?”  
  
He blinked as she waved a hand in front of his face. “Uh?”  
  
“You spaced out on me, you alright?”  
  
Pat nodded slowly. “Um, sure...look, Chelle, I need to show you something.”  
  
Lachelle tilted her head to the side some of her blonde hair falling across her face. “What’s that?”  
  
Pat sucked at his teeth. “I gotta do this in the living room.”  
  
“Do what, Pat?” She was confused.  
  
Pat just grimaced, turned, and walked out of the kitchen, into the narrow hallway, crossing into the living room. Lachelle followed her expression becoming even more bemused as he pulled the sofa away from the centre of the room. Then he pushed the coffee table under the windowsill and turned to face her.  
  
“Pat, what are you doing?”  
  
He took another deep breath and stared directly into her eyes. Shadows moved in his own eyes; Lachelle felt a tingle race down her spine. She brought her hands up to rub at her arms as a shiver caused gooseflesh to rise.  
  
“Pat?” Her voice dropped to a mere quizzical whisper.  
  
He shook his head and closed his eyes. “Just watch me, Lachelle.”  
  
Lachelle frowned wondering what her friend was doing, but then something began happening to his body. He let out a low growl that began to rumble in his chest and build as he sank to his haunches. Tugging at his shirt he pulled it away as fur began to sprout across his back, chest, all over.  
  
Her eyes widened, but she was unable to tear her gaze away as his body twisted and he stretched his arms out in front of him, legs behind him, muscles, bones, skin, shifting and changing. The final parts of his body to change were his face and the tail that pushed out behind him.  
  
The sound of bone, twisting and cracking as they changed length and position, sent chills through her body.  
  
Lachelle backed up and pressed against the wall, her knees feeling as if they would give out beneath her. “Pat...?”  
  
She squeezed her eyes shut then after several more minutes, opened them and peered out between her knees. She found herself staring at the large animal that now stood in the man’s place. It looked like a wolf, except that it was much, much larger than any wolf she’d ever laid eyes on. His fur was dark over his back and flanks, a tawny-red colouring on his legs, underbelly and the backs of his ears. His face was a tawny-grey, the muzzle a light reddish brown.  
  
Lachelle slid down the wall and wrapped her arms around her knees. The wolf, Pat, padded close to her and lay down at her feet, propping his head on top of his paws.  
  
Then he shifted and leaned forward, nudging his muzzle against her legs.  _Chelle..._  
  
She bit her lip, rubbing at her eyes. “Pat...what...?”  
  
 _Werewolf...I was born like this...I’m real...you know that I’m real._  
  
Lachelle hugged her upper body tight, drawing her knees closer to her body. He followed her movement and nudged at her legs again.  
  
“Damn it...” She buried her face against her knees her next words muffled. “He really is a vampire then...isn’t he?”  
  
Silently, Pat gave thanks to his father that the change had worked, and then nodded, giving a tiny yip of affirmation.  _Yes. He is._  
  
Lachelle sighed deeply and wiped a hand across her eyes. “I...should talk to him, eh?”  
  
Pat yipped again.  _Yes._  
  
She exhaled harshly. “What if he won’t talk to me?”  
  
 _He will. He loves you. He...he didn’t mean to hurt you. He...just...needed to feed._  
  
Lachelle hesitated before laying a hand in Pat’s scruff; the fur there was thick, rough, yet soft at the same time. “Wow...” There was a hint of awe in her voice. Apprehension laced the tone; however, she was calmer than she had been moments earlier. “You’re so...soft...”  
  
Pat gave a small whine and turned to nudge his wet nose against her hand.  
  
She absently patted at his head then she got to her feet and raked fingers through her long hair. “You going to...stay like that?”  
  
Pat yipped again.  _Nah...I’ll change back now, just um...I’ll go to the bathroom, could you bring my clothes?_  
  
Lachelle giggled understanding instantly why he asked. “Don’t tell me you’re naked when you change back?”  
  
 _Uh...yeah...I haven’t managed to perfect that...some Were’s can change back clothes and all...I’m not so good at that._  
  
“Okay.” She bent down and picked up his T-shirt and jeans, following him to the bathroom. He padded inside; she walked in and put his clothes on the vanity then slipped out and went back to the kitchen, giving him some privacy.  
  
Ten minutes later, Pat entered the kitchen tugging the hem of his T-shirt down and smoothing his hands over his hair. Lachelle sat at the kitchen counter a glass of orange juice sitting in front of her.  
  
He smiled faintly at her. “How’re you feeling now?”  
  
She shrugged a little. “Still a little overwhelmed.”  
  
Pat nodded sitting opposite her. “I don’t blame you. It is all kind of shocking.”  
  
Lachelle took several slow breaths. “So, I was thinking...I might wait to talk to Pierre...”  
  
“Wait?”  
  
She looked down into her juice not meeting his quizzical gaze. “I...I’m not ready to...talk to him. I need to get my head around it first.”  
  
Pat leaned over the counter and took one of her hands in his, squeezing tenderly. “That’s understandable...but you can’t leave it too long...the guys leave on their Canadian tour in over a week...”  
  
Lachelle nodded meeting his understanding gaze. “I’ll...go over tomorrow...maybe...or Wednesday.”  
  
Pat gave her hand one more squeezed the released it, raking his fingers through his hair. “I’ll go keep him company then, shall I?”  
  
She smiled weakly. “Sure...you’re a good friend to him.”  
  
He shrugged. “No big deal.”  
  
Lachelle nodded, then hesitantly reached over to hug him around the shoulders. “Thanks for bringing me home, Pat.”  
  
Pat smiled squeezing her shoulders lightly. “You’re welcome...I’ll let myself out.”  
  
She nodded again and smiled watching as he walked out, murmuring a soft goodbye.  
  
 _ **Bouvier Residence  
  
3 PM**_  
  
“Pierre? Hunny...are you okay?”  
  
Louise had been in the kitchen when Pat and Lachelle had left the house and she wondered why her younger son had not seen his fiancée out. Of course, she was in the middle of preparing a meal for dinner, so she finished with that. Then she went to his room to see whether something was wrong. She knocked on his door and peered around the frame, a questioning expression on her face.  
  
“Pierre?” She repeated his name as she saw him sitting by the window, staring out across the front lawn, deep in thought.  
  
He dragged his mind from whatever thought he was concentrating on and turned his head slightly to look at her. “Huh?”  
  
“Is something the matter?”  
  
Pierre took a deep breath and just stared at her for a long time, then he grimaced standing and walking toward her. “When does Dad get home?” He didn’t answer her question, asking one of his own instead.  
  
Louise scratched her chin. “He should be home in a few minutes. Why? What’s wrong?”  
  
Pierre bit at his cheek lightly, tongue flickering absently against his fangs. “I need to talk to both of you about something...” His tone was distant as was the look in his dark eyes.  
  
Louise started to become anxious. “Pierre, hun...please...tell me...what’s wrong.”  
  
He didn’t answer brushing passed her out into the hallway. She followed him as he strode down the corridor and into the living room. Hesitating in the doorway, Louise watched as Pierre walked over to the fireplace and stood with his back to her arms folded across his chest, chin tucked into his chest. She could see the tension in his broad shoulders, in the way he held his body with his legs spread slightly.  
  
“Pierre?”  
  
He didn’t turn around, but he did say softly, “When Dad gets home, Mom...”  
  
Louise sighed and turned to walk to the front door. She opened it and leaned against the doorframe staring down the front driveway. Just as she thought she couldn’t handle it any longer and that she should go and insist that Pierre tell her what was wrong, the soft put-put of Rèal’s old van reached her ears.  
  
She wiped her hands on the apron she still had tied around her waist and watched gratefully as he husband stepped out of his van and came toward her.  
  
He tilted his head and frowned when he recognised the anxious look in her eyes. “Lou? What’s wrong? Is something wrong?”  
  
Louise struggled to find an answer, finally just shaking her head. “Our...son...”  
  
“What? Is it Jay...is it-”  
  
“No, Jay is fine. It’s not him...it’s Pierre. He’s in the living room waiting for you...and me.”  
  
Rèal lifted an eyebrow as he entered the house setting his bag down in the hallway. “What for?”  
  
“He says he needs to talk to us about something.” She wrung her hands together. “I’ve never seen him like this before...do you think it’s about-?”  
  
Rèal caught hold of her hands, halting her words, and squeezed them reassuringly. “Calm, Lou...be calm. He’ll tell us, whatever it is...and we’ll get through it like we always do, okay, Cherie? Just like when the doctor told us about Jay’s cancer...”  
  
Louise nodded, letting her husband lead her back to the living room.  
  
“Son?” Rèal announced their entrance.  
  
Pierre turned to face them. His face was carefully expressionless the only sign of emotion flickering in his eyes. “Mom, Dad...I...need to talk to you.”  
  
Rèal moved to sit on the sofa; Louise sat next to him. Pierre leaned back against the fireplace, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets.  
  
“What is it, son?” He asked, even though he had a weird feeling he knew what his son wanted to talk to them about. However, he would let Pierre be the one to put voice to the question.  
  
Pierre shifted on his feet looking down at the floor. He knew that what he was about to ask would be difficult and he had no clue how to say it without sounding abrupt, rude, and even uncaring. Yet, ever since finding out that he was a vampire one single thought had been niggling furiously at his mind and he needed to do something to get rid of it.  
  
Biting at his tongue, he took several deep breaths before finally finding the courage to ask the question. “I’ve been thinking about my birthday. And...how you said I was so...big for such an early birth.”  
  
Louise stiffened slightly, biting at her own tongue.  
  
Rèal leaned forward frowning slightly. “You were just a big baby-” he started to say.  
  
Pierre cut him off. “No. I wasn’t.” He sighed pulling one hand from his pocket and smearing it over his face. “Look, I’m 29...I think it’s time you told me the truth.”  
  
“The truth?” Rèal wondered, vaguely, how Pierre figured that his birth story had been a lie, and then decided that pursuing that avenue of thought would not be worth the headache.  
  
Pierre nodded curtly. “Yes. Because you’re not my real parents, are you?”  
  
Rèal stared hard at Pierre, wondering how long he could hold off. “We  _are_  your parents. We brought you up.”  
  
Pierre’s jaw tightened. “But, I’m not your biological son. You have Jon and Jay for that.”  
  
His father stood and glared at him; he wasn’t willing to give in, not without trying to fend off the inevitable. “Where the hell is this coming from, Pierre? We are your parents.”  
  
“No.” Pierre’s voice was hard. “You can’t be.”  
  
He looked away unable to stand the pain he could see in Louise’s eyes. He could feel her pain as well; it was beginning to throb in his heart. He forced it out and focussed on a stain on the carpet.  
  
“What do you mean?” Rèal spoke softly, in a way that would normally have warned Pierre that he was treading on thin ice. It always worked when he was a child. However, Pierre didn’t respond to the underlying tone, instead, he hissed slightly, lip curling ever so little the very tips of his fangs showing.  
  
Louise gasped, eyes widening, but Rèal didn’t flinch. “Ahh...” He let out a long weary sigh, finally relenting and sinking back down on the sofa. “Pierre...” All of a sudden he just sounded sad a sorrowful expression in his deep hazel eyes.  
  
Pierre let his lip relax and tilted his head. “Dad?”  
  
Rèal smoothed his hands over his white hair and looked at him. “I’m sorry, Pierre...I didn’t think that...I didn’t want to believe...” He shook his head. “You were abandoned on our front doorstep...barely a few days old...”  
  
Pierre swallowed hard and sank down to sit on the floor. He nodded for Rèal to continue.  
  
“Your mother left a letter attached to your carrier.” He laughed roughly. “It said that you were...in danger and that she was too and that she could not keep you because the man...who is your real father, would be after her.”  
  
“Do you still have the letter?”  
  
“Yes. It’s in the locked drawer in the study. I’ll go get it for you.”  
  
Pierre bit his lip. “Could you give it to me just before we go on tour?”  
  
Rèal nodded slowly, not questioning his reasoning. “Of course. Anyway,” he went on, “You were a very quiet baby...we took you in. Obviously.” He smiled remembering something. “Jon wanted to know what was going on...he was all excited about having another little brother. Jay wasn’t as interested. But, y’know...he was 2 years old, all he cared about was where he was going to get his next feed. You were the same actually...”  
  
He paused then continued, “There was something different about you...that I could never put my finger on...but when you were six months old, you were teething and weren’t very well, we took you to see a doctor who told us that you were a vampire.”  
  
“What? Straight out? Just like that?” Pierre was incredulous. “I guess you didn’t believe him?”  
  
Rèal shook his head. “Your mother...” He glanced sideways at Louise who was just staying quiet, listening. “Lou, wouldn’t have a bar of it. I believed though...deep down. Because, it explained a lot of things.”  
  
“Like?” Pierre gave his dad a curious look.  
  
“You were growing very quickly...at six months you were as big as Jay had been at one. And you could already talk.”  
  
Pierre shivered. “That is a little unusual...”  
  
“Indeed. So, now it’s all happening.” Rèal sighed heavily. “I don’t know what to say really, son...”  
  
“That’s okay...” Pierre rubbed at his face. “Oh...did...the letter say who my...birth mother is?”  
  
Louise spoke up then her voice soft, “Serena. She didn’t leave a last name.”  
  
“And...my father?”  
  
“No idea. She didn’t mention any names.”  
  
Rèal scowled. “She only said that he was a dangerous man and that he would be after her.”  
  
Pierre stretched his neck muscles. “Sounds like a criminal or something.”  
  
“Perhaps. Anyway, I guess that answers your question.”  
  
There was a tense silence for a long moment and then Pierre burst out laughing. “Damn, Dad...I wasn’t expecting any of that.”  
  
Louise smiled faintly; Rèal smirked. “It’s amazing what comes up in conversation, eh, son?”  
  
Standing, Pierre smirked in response. “Yeah, true that.” He walked toward Louise and held his arms open to her, his smile softening. “C’mere, Mom...I do love you, you know?”  
  
She smiled and stood going into his arms wrapping her arms around his shoulders and hugging him close. “I know...I know...I love you too, sweetie.”  
  
Pierre stood holding her close, rocking her gently.  
  
Rèal stepped close to them and patted Pierre’s shoulder. “You’re a good boy, Pierre. You make your Mom and me very proud.”  
  
The vampire went slightly pink and ducked his head down, breathing in deeply. The scent filling his nostrils was sweet like honey.  
  
He shivered squeezing Louise gently then he stepped back. “I...um...need to go.” He paused. “I’ll be home for dinner...”  
  
Louise opened her mouth to ask him where he was going, but her husband stopped her, shaking his head slowly. Pierre nodded gratefully to his dad then turned and walked out of the living room.

 


	8. Clouds of fear

_**Tuesday May 20th, 2008  
  
Laval Domestic Terminal  
  
9 AM**_  
  
“You guys are so lazy...you can’t even be bothered driving to Montreal City.” Lachelle hung around Pierre’s neck, nuzzling into his left ear. He rumbled low in his throat and wrapped a hand around the nape of her neck, squeezing tenderly. The rest of the band members rolled their eyes at the couple.  
  
“We meet the bus there. And there’s nowhere to leave our cars.” Chuck explained with a smirk.  
  
Lachelle raised her eyebrows. “You’re still lazy.”  
  
Pierre growled and swung her off from around his neck. “You calling me lazy after what we did the other night?” He smirked and pecked her on the lips.  
  
“Fuck, go get a room, you two.” Jeff pushed at the back of Pierre’s head. The larger male stiffened.  
  
His fiancée sensed the sudden tension in his body and leaned into him. “Pierre...” she lowered her voice so only he could hear her.  
  
He looked down into her worried eyes. “Hmm?”  
  
“Don’t get upset...”  
  
“I’m not...” Pierre whispered reassuringly. “I’m fine, baby...” He kissed her lightly on the lips again.  
  
“Could you quit with the sucking of face?” Pat leaned over Pierre’s shoulder; his tone was light and mocking, yet the look in his eyes was serious.  _Be careful, Pierre...  
  
Don’t worry...I fed before I left home.  
  
Oh...good..._ “Come on, Pierre. The others are checking in.”  
  
“Well,” Pierre smirked, “I’m checkin’ out.”  
  
Pat rolled his eyes. “Very funny.”  
  
Lachelle leaned forward. “He is.”  
  
“I’m glad you think so, sweetheart...” Pierre grinned at her, then walked over to the check-in counter.  
  
Pat snorted and glanced at Lachelle. “Are you sure you won’t be sick of him after a month on the road?”  
  
Brushing hair from her eyes, she smiled, lifting her shoulders slightly. “Well, we’ll just have to wait and see, eh?”  
  
Pat sighed and held his arm out to her. “Shall we?”  
  
Lachelle laughed lightly and took his proffered arm allowing him to lead her to join the band.  
  
David bounced up to her and grinned, giving her puppy-dog eyes. “Are you sure you’ll be okay driving to the City?”  
  
She rolled her eyes. “Of course. I can’t bring Delilah on the plane, y’know.”  
  
Pierre glanced back at her over his shoulder. “Well, you could...but it’s such a hassle...all the paper work.”  
  
“Tell me about it...” Lachelle shook her head then looked back at David. “Anyway, you’ll be seeing a lot of me on the bus. So, I’ll give you guys some time without female influence.”  
  
The bassist pouted, sticking his bottom lip out. “Awww...but I’ll miss you, Chelle...”  
  
Pierre finished checking-in and walked over to them. Slapping David on the shoulder, he chortled. “Yeah, but she won’t miss you.”  
  
David pretended to cry. “You meaner...”  
  
Lachelle pretended to glare at Pierre. “I agree, you are mean. Of course I’ll miss him.” She hugged David around the waist. He smiled and hugged her back, giggling. Pierre growled softly, eyes narrowing.  
  
Pat who was coming up behind Lachelle frowned at his friend.  _Pierre..._  
  
Pierre relaxed and shot a look at him.  _I don’t know what’s up with me..._  
  
Pat blinked at him, shrugging slightly.  _Male vamps are very...territorial over their females..._  
  
Pierre nodded to him then went to Lachelle hugging her around the shoulders; she leaned away from David into the larger man’s side and smiled at him.  
  
“I’ll miss you more, P...”  
  
“Of course, but you’ll enjoy the drive.” He kissed the top of her head then nudged her away. “Go on, the sooner you leave the sooner we’ll meet in the City.”  
  
Lachelle smiled blowing him one last kiss then she turned and headed for the exit. Pierre watched her go then turned to follow the others to the boarding lounge.  
  
* * * * *  
  
 _“Good morning, this is John Saunders, your captain, speaking. On behalf of all the flight crew, and myself, I would like to extend a warm welcome to you all. Weather conditions are fair and we are expected to get a relatively quick run to Montreal City. We are expected to...”_  
  
Pierre tuned out the rest of the Captain’s announcement as he leaned back against his chair and stared out the round window at the passing clouds. Pat sat next to him, laptop open on the small pull out table. The two men sat in relative silence, only the usual aircraft noises and the tapping of Pat’s fingers on the keyboard interrupting the quiet.  
  
After a while, Pat glanced sideways at his friend, before returning his gaze to the document open in front of him. “So, your parents knew?”  
  
Pierre folded his arms still watching the wispy white clouds as they passed by. “Yeah.”  
  
“That’s a little crazy, eh?”  
  
“Yep.” Pierre was not feeling talkative.  
  
However, Pat was in the mood to have a conversation and he knew he had to find out whether Lachelle had managed to talk to Pierre about the whole vampire thing. “And you know your mother’s name, now.”  
  
“Mhm. She left a letter. Mom and Dad both read it.”  
  
“Do you have it?”  
  
“Dad gave it to me just before we left.” Pierre shifted on his seat. “It’s in my bag.”  
  
Pat nodded still without looking away from the laptop monitor. “Good.” He licked his lips. “Spoken with Lachelle?”  
  
Pierre’s jaw tightened and he shot a hard look at his friend’s shaggy brown hair; that was all he could see, because Pat had ducked his head down so he could read whatever was on the screen. “She was upset.”  
  
Pat finally looked at his friend. “What happened?”  
  
Pierre looked away, eyes glazing over as he remembered the conversation with his fiancée. She had come over on the Wednesday, two days after the incident, and she had been extremely wary of him. He sucked on his bottom lip slowly, still picturing the pained expression on Lachelle’s face when she had entered his room.  
  
Sighing he looked over at Pat again. “We talked. I explained best I could. I mean...it’s a bit difficult when I don’t really understand what’s going on.” Pierre fiddled with the latch on the tray. “Chelle...cried a bit. I promised to try and control my urges. I don’t want to lose control like that, again.”  
  
Pat closed his laptop lid slightly and tilted his head. “Go on?”  
  
Pierre sighed heavily. “She...wouldn’t let me touch her. Hah.” He barked a bitter laugh. “I can’t blame her...would you want to touch me if you knew I was a vampire?”  
  
Pat smirked faintly. “I’ve always known. But, that’s not why I don’t want to touch you.”  
  
The singer snorted. “Funny...”  
  
“I try. So, what else?”  
  
Pierre leaned his head back against the seat, rubbing at his eyes. “We...just talked. Nothing interesting really.”  
  
“No? No hot, make up sex?”  
  
“No. I didn’t think that would be a good idea...” Pierre trailed off gazing into space.  
  
Pat snorted. “Then what was that comment you made earlier?”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“That thing you said to Chelle when she called you lazy?”  
  
Pierre went slightly pink. “Well, okay...we did a little something...but, let’s just say I didn’t get any satisfaction.”  
  
Pat frowned, “Worried it might trigger your hunger?”  
  
“Yeah...and like I said...I didn’t want to lose control.”  
  
“That’s fair enough, man.”  
  
Pierre nodded then closed his eyes shifting in his seat to get in a more comfortable position. Pat observed him silently for a moment, watching as his friend apparently drifted off to sleep, then he went back to his work.  
  
 _ **Montreal City  
  
Bus Terminal  
  
11 AM**_  
  
“Ah...dah-yum! So good to stretch them leg bones!” The Rev jumped out of the bus almost colliding with Zacky who was already outside.  
  
“Christ, Rev! Watch where you’re throwing your body!” Zacky rubbed at the side of his head. The Rev just snorted and wandered away.  
  
Shadows followed the lanky male off the bus and smirked faintly. “Quit whining, V. He didn’t break you.”  
  
The younger male glanced sharply at Shadows. “I am not whining, Shads.”  
  
“Yeah, he’s not a fucking dog...” Synyster stepped off the bus next, lugging a couple of bags.  
  
“You’d better stop that, Haner. Johnny’ll be here in any minute.” Shadows glared at the brown-eyed vampire. Syn just stared back at him, gave a little shrug, and then wandered off in the same direction The Rev had gone.  
  
Zacky watched him go then looked at the master vampire. “After all these years...he’s still angry about you keeping Christ around.”  
  
Shadows sighed. “That’s his problem. Not mine.”  
  
“Yeah, but-” He was cut off as Johnny suddenly materialised, right next to them.  
  
“Hey, I’m back.”  
  
Shadows rolled his eyes. “We can see that.” He glanced around making sure no one had just seen what had happened.  
  
“Relax, master,” the smaller man mumbled. “There’s no one about.”  
  
“Right. So, any news this time, Christ?”  
  
The Werewolf licked at his lips, casting a quick glance at Zacky before answering. “I’ve met your son.” He paused, licking at his lips again.  
  
Shadows’ eyes narrowed and he took a step closer to the shorter male. “Tell me.” His voice was low and strained.  
  
Johnny swallowed passed a lump that had formed in the back of his throat. “You are not gonna believe this...”  
  
Shadows gritted out, “Just tell me, pup.”  
  
Johnny nodded vigorously sensing the tension ratchet up a notch or two. “It’s...” He hesitated then looked at Zacky again. “Do you remember when we did Warped back in 2003?”  
  
“Seward,” the snarl in Shadows’ voice was a distinct warning for him to get a move on.  
  
Johnny held both his hands out in a placating gesture. “There’s a point to this, sir...”  
  
“Then hurry it up, you don’t want me losing my temper.”  
  
The vampire and the Werewolf locked eyes for a long moment.  
  
Then Johnny took a deep breath, rubbing his palms on his jeans. “Well, we met the guys from Simple Plan, remember?”  
  
Zacky smirked. “Yeah, Shadows swiped Chuck’s favourite Role Model hoodie.”  
  
Shadows’ rolled his eyes. “It was way too big for him. Go on.”  
  
Johnny sighed leaning his head back. “Pierre Bouvier...” He halted biting his bottom lip.  
  
“What about him?” Shadows tilted his head to the side, confusion darkening his eyes.  
  
The Were looked at him.  _Just say it..._  “Pierre...is your son.”  
  
“Holy Hell...” Zacky gulped green eyes widening. Johnny ignored his exclamation waiting for his master’s response.  
  
Shadows took a slow breath and turned his head away, smoothing a hand over his short brown hair. “Pierre Bouvier...damn...that’s...” He shook his head slowly. “He doesn’t seem the type...”  
  
Johnny shrugged. “Well, whether he’s the type or not...he’s Serena’s son.”  
  
“Is she still-?”  
  
“No. I haven’t sensed her. He lives with...the Bouvier family...obviously.”  
  
“Uhuh...Pierre Bouvier.” Shadows chewed on his cheek. “Where’d you meet him?”  
  
“I encountered him just as he was having his first feed.”  
  
The vampire tensed and shot a cold look at the Werewolf. “What did he feed on?”  
  
Johnny froze, shivers racing through his body. The master vampire knew nothing of the Cunningham and Langlois Were-bloodline. He also felt that Alpha and Pat would both rather that the vampires did not find out about them. At any rate, Alpha was his rock, his safety, the one person he could go to when he couldn’t handle being around Shadows anymore.  
  
“Well?” Shadows lifted an eyebrow folding his massive forearms across his chest.  
  
Johnny bit his tongue as he replied quietly. “He was feeding from a squirrel.”  
  
Zacky silently huffed; the one trait the youngest vampire had, a trait that he hated, was to know instantly when someone was lying and he could tell the Werewolf was not telling the truth. He decided though not to disclose this because he knew that Shadows had his own way of discerning the truth from lies. He didn’t need any nudging from a young vampire.  
  
He grabbed his bags and hurried off leaving Shadows and Johnny facing each other. The Werewolf was holding his breath waiting on tenterhooks to see if the master vampire would by his story. Shadows was sifting through his thoughts wondering whether he should alert Johnny to the fact that he knew he was lying.  
  
Finally, he said, “You know, I don’t like liars, Johnny.”  
  
Johnny sighed and nodded, mumbling, “Sorry, Shads.” He rubbed at his arms. “It was another Were. It just came from as if nowhere and it insisted to let Pierre feed from him.”  
  
Shadows rubbed his chin. “Is that the best you could come up with? You’re not telling me everything.”  
  
The Werewolf shifted on his feet, biting at his lip. “It’s not really important...just some Were I knew in the City.”  
  
“Ahh...” Shadows stared hard at him. “One of your contacts?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Well, you know, that’s all you needed to tell me. But, now you’ve got me intrigued.”  
  
Johnny swallowed hard. “I don’t really know-”  
  
The vampire cut him off. “Don’t, Christ. Lying won’t help you. I’ll find out anyway.” He rubbed at the tip of his nose. “Anyway, we’ll talk about it later. We’re gonna hit the town and cruise for today.”  
  
“No commitments, right?”  
  
“Right.” Shadows managed a tight smile. “Just see what we see.”  
  
Johnny nodded shoving his hands into his pockets. “Okay then...” He looked in the direction the others had gone. “Um...is Syn...”  
  
Shadows growled. “Don’t you worry about him. You just stick by me.”  
  
The Were nodded and stamped his feet slightly. The vampire slid his shades onto his face and swung around, walking away from the front of the bus where they had been standing and jumping up onto the pavement. Johnny followed him glancing up at the sky.  
  
Shadows glanced back. “What is it?”  
  
The Werewolf bit his bottom lip. “The clouds... they’re really dark...”  
  
Shadows followed his gaze and then pulled the leather jacket he was wearing close around his body. Even though it was warm, he still wore the jacket. Being a vampire meant that the outside environment didn’t affect him as it did humans.  
  
“That’s not good...” He growled as his fangs suddenly began to ache. “We’d better catch up with the others...”  
  
Johnny nodded still casting quick glances up at the clouds as Shadows began to stride away. He hurried to catch up to the larger male wanting to stay as close as possible. He had a weird feeling that this day was going to be a very interesting one, and he was not so sure he was looking forward to it.  
  
Giving the clouds one last anxious look he gritted his teeth and set his mind, steeling himself for whatever the day would bring.


	9. “Fallen souls we shine so bright...”

_**Same Day  
  
Main Street Mall  
  
Noon**_  
  
In the centre of Main Street Mall, there is a huge circular fountain. In the middle of it is a giant bronze statue of a wolf. Several pigeons sit atop its pointed muzzle; it is positioned so it is standing on some bronze rocks, head tilted in a silent howl. The statue was the very first thing that Shadows and Johnny laid eyes on as they wandered along the Mall looking for the rest of the gang.  
  
“Where in Hell did they go?” Johnny darted quick brown eyes over the fountain, scowling. “I mean, seriously, there’s hardly anyone here...and they stick out a mile.”  
  
Shadows grunted shifting his shades on his face and casually scanning the mall, noting the few people that were milling around, coming in and out of the stores lining the way. He allowed his eyes to keep travelling when he saw a neon sign right down near the other end out the front of which looked like some kind of bar.  
  
He pointed. “Down there.”  
  
Johnny followed where his finger was indicating. “The Rhino Bar...” He read the sign and blinked. “You think? It is only noon.”  
  
Shadows snorted. “Never too early for Jimmy and Syn...”  
  
“True.” He tugged at the piercing in his left nostril. Then he frowned faintly lifting his head slightly, catching a whiff of a familiar scent. He turned his head slightly, narrowing his gaze.  
  
Shadows caught his movement. “Smell them?”  
  
Johnny shook his head quickly. “No. I thought maybe...but no. Let’s go try that bar...when we get closer we’ll probably be able to catch a scent.”  
  
The vampire sucked at a fang, nodding. “Right. Come on then.”  
  
They strode passed the fountain and approached the bar. As they got closer, the familiar scent once again assaulted Johnny’s nostrils. He frowned to himself thinking that it must be the rest of the gang. However, as they reached the entrance the scent shifted slightly and Johnny knew instantly that it wasn’t anyone from Avenged that he was sensing.  
  
Shadows moved into the bar ahead of Johnny and blinked as he scanned the place. Smoke from an ashtray sitting on a table close to the entrance, wafted toward them. Johnny wrinkled his nostrils looking around the almost deserted bar.  
  
Shadows frowned. “Strange...there’s no one here.” He started toward the bar and leaned against it, squinting through a door behind the counter. There were people back there; he could sense them. Johnny joined him glancing warily about.  
  
Suddenly another door toward the back of the bar slid open and a very familiar face entered through what looked like a back entrance. Johnny stiffened a little, the hair at the back of his neck bristling.  
  
Shadows turned, bracing his back against the bar and smirking at the newcomer. “Pierre Bouvier, long time, no see.”  
  
The Simple Plan vocalist smiled faintly walking toward the larger male and grasping the hand he offered to him. “Matt. What’s it been? Five years?”  
  
“Warped, 2003,” Johnny muttered. Pierre glanced at him, an unreadable expression flickering across his face for a split second.  
  
The Werewolf met his gaze for a long moment then looked away.  _Act like everything’s normal, Bouvier..._  
  
Pierre lifted an eyebrow slightly then grinned. “Yeah, that’s right. I guess I looked a bit different then.”  
  
Shadows snorted releasing Pierre’s hand and nodding to his left arm. “Got a sleeve, I see.”  
  
Pierre ran a hand absently over the ink. “Yeah.” He studied the bigger man for a second. “You’ve added more to both of yours.”  
  
Shadows chuckled, the sound light, concealing what the vampire was really feeling. “Yeah, I guess you could say I’m addicted to it.”  
  
Pierre nodded, then glanced around at the bar. “Hmm...odd. No one’s here.” He rubbed at his cheek. “Well, apart from you two.”  
  
Shadows shifted a little. “I was just commenting on that.” He paused, then said casually, “What are you doing here?”  
  
Brown eyes shining, Pierre answered with a smile, “I’m waiting for the rest of my band. And my girlfriend; we’re meeting our tour bus here.”  
  
Johnny turned his head to look at the singer. “Simple Plan is going on tour?”  
  
“Yeah, we are. Just across Canada. We’re long due for a home tour.”  
  
Shadows folded his arms across his chest. “We’re touring Canada too. Decided to come to Montreal City for a couple of days before we head back to Toronto for several big shows.”  
  
Pierre nodded but then bit at his bottom lip, just as his fangs started to ache. Johnny saw something change in the other male’s deep brown eyes, a flash of hunger and perhaps a little pain. He glanced sideways at the master vampire; Shadows had also noticed it.  
  
He hesitated before speaking, not wanting to shock Pierre, or hint at anything other than, that he was concerned and wanted to help. No point in revealing that he knew what was going on, knew that Pierre was adjusting to the fangs in his mouth.  
  
“Uh, you okay, Bouvier? You look a little faint.”  
  
Pierre frowned rubbing at his top lip at the point where his left canine met his jawbone. “Uh...just...my teeth...a little sore.” He glanced at Johnny then back at Shadows. “I’m curious...”  
  
Shadows noticed that he was changing the subject and smiled a little, a closed-lip expression that did not reveal his own fangs. “About?”  
  
“Well, uh...Johnny...he came to Laval...a few days ago...and he...”  
  
Shadows cut in smirking faintly, “You’re about to ask me if I know that Johnny is a Werewolf.”  
  
Pierre blinked. “That’s exactly what I was going to ask. How did you know?”  
  
“Oh, just a hunch.” He licked his lips slowly. “The answer’s yes by the way.” Shadows growled softly. “He’s my pup.”  
  
Pierre frowned as he noticed Johnny tense up next to the larger male. “What do you mean by that?”  
  
Shadows leaned away from the bar finally flashing a broad smile. Pierre took a step back, eyes widening, as he stared at the set of fangs that gleamed in the darkness of the bar. Reminiscent of a cat’s, yet, larger and sharper than any feline they were thickened at the base and curved to tapering needlepoint’s at the tips.  
  
“Holy shit...” Do mine look like that? Pierre shuddered, eyes darting everywhere but at the bigger male.  
  
Shadows rolled his eyes and concealed them once more. “I’m a vampire. And as tradition goes, Johnny is my wolf. He belongs to me. So, that’s what I meant by that.”  
  
Pierre’s brow furrowed as he took that piece of information in. Then he glanced at Shadows and frowned even more. “You didn’t ask how I knew that Johnny was a Were...”  
  
Shadows laughed. “No, I didn’t. But, I don’t really need to, do I?”  
  
Pierre shrugged. “Well, I’m a human right...it’s not like he would reveal what he is to someone like me, right?” He scrunched up his face. “In fact...you wouldn’t be telling me you’re a vampire, either.”  
  
Shadows laughed outright. “True that.” He rubbed at his jaw. “These could be fake.”  
  
“They don’t look fake to me.”  
  
There was a sudden silence and the three men just stared at each other.  
  
Then Shadows finally went where he had really wanted to go since Pierre had walked into the bar; in fact, since Johnny had told him that the Simple Plan singer was his son. “What you just said would present us with a problem...if it were true.”  
  
Pierre grimaced. “Of course it is. I’m human, you two aren’t.”  
  
Johnny shifted nervously on his stool glancing between the two vampires. Obviously, Pierre had decided he didn’t want to tell anyone else that he was a vampire. The Werewolf could understand that sentiment but he knew that now that Shadows knew, Pierre would have no hope of hiding the fact from other people. Or at least from the master vampire and the rest of Avenged. That worried Johnny and he wondered how his master would respond to Pierre’s comment.  
  
Shadows’ lip curled slightly. “You know, I can smell a human from a mile away, and apart from a couple of staff members at the back of this joint...” He looked toward the door behind the bar then brought his shade-covered gaze back to Pierre. “There are no other humans in this bar.”  
  
“What? Not even us?” There were two soft pops at Pierre’s ears. He jumped slightly as The Rev and Zacky Vengeance appeared on either side of him.  
  
“Yeah, sure and humans can do that...” Johnny retorted. The two vampires rolled their eyes at the Werewolf, nodded to the master vampire then looked at Pierre.  
  
Zacky wrinkled his nose, green eyes dancing. “You smell distinctly unhuman...”  
  
Pierre’s jaw tightened.  
  
The Rev smirked, but not unkindly. “There’s no point in being in denial. You’ll just give yourself a massive headache.”  
  
Zacky chuckled. “I know a cure for that.”  
  
“Of course you do, doc,” Shadows smirked then stared hard at Pierre. “You might as well ‘fess up, Bouvier. We all know what you are. Johnny told me. And we can tell at any rate. Vampire’s have a distinct scent that no other species has or will ever have.”  
  
Pierre looked at the four of them then looked at Johnny sharply. “I didn’t want anyone to know...”  
  
Johnny smiled apologetically. “Sorry, but Shads would’ve realised at any rate.” He looked down. “I actually found you because...I could smell your change...it gave off an extremely song scent.”  
  
Shadows laughed adding gruffly, “Johnny’s a sticky beak, so he just had to track down the scent. And see who was turning vamp.”  
  
Johnny shot his master a look.  
  
The larger male glowered at him.  _Before you say anything, no, I am not telling him the real reason you went looking for him. He does not need to know the truth. At least, not yet._  
  
The Werewolf turned his head quickly back to Pierre. “Your scent was irritating my senses. And, anyway, I had friends I wanted to see in Laval.”  
  
Pierre bit his lip thinking silently to himself:  _Patrick..._  However, he kept his face blank and just nodded.  
  
“What friends?” Zacky sneered.  
  
Johnny opened his mouth; Shadows interrupted. “Friends that I’d like to meet some day.”  
  
The Werewolf shivered ignoring his master’s comment and looking at Pierre. “You need to feed, don’t you?”  
  
Pierre squeezed his eyes shut and slumped against the bar. “Yes...” His voice had gone husky, his hunger overwhelming him. “I need...”  
  
Johnny sucked at his bottom lip, glancing at the others. “Know anywhere decent to get a feed?”  
  
Zacky smirked. “Jimmy and I just came from a bar at the other end of town...some hot tail there.” The green-eyed vamp swirled his tongue over his fangs. “Blood’s pretty damned sweet, too.”  
  
The Rev snorted, “Not as sweet as virgin blood...but you can’t pick and choose.”  
  
Pierre’s eyebrows rose. “Virgin blood?”  
  
Shadows rubbed his hands against his biceps. “That gives us the best boost. One problem though. No virgin ever gives of their vein willingly.”  
  
“Oh...” Pierre had no idea where that comment led, or more to the point whether he really wanted to know, and decided not to pursue it. Instead, he glanced at Zacky and said with a confused expression, “Those girls at that bar...aren’t you worried they might have diseases?”  
  
He laughed, shaking his head. “We’re vampires, buddy. Human diseases don’t affect us.”  
  
“We can’t get AIDs or HIV...” The Rev added with a smirk.  
  
The master vampire rolled his shoulders and murmured low. “We don’t get cancer either.”  
  
Pierre’s ears pricked at the comment. “True?”  
  
Shadows smiled tightly. “True. Of course, we’re not immune to everything...”  
  
Zacky interrupted with a tiny smirk, “We can catch colds. But more like...the kind cats get.”  
  
“Feline influenza is a real bitch.” The master vampire rolled his eyes then stared hard at Pierre. “We’ll take you down to the other bar. Maybe we’ll bump into the rest of your band on the way.”  
  
“And your girlfriend,” Johnny added. He paused before asking, “Um...is she okay...after...” He bit his lip.  
  
“After what?” Shadows snapped.  
  
Pierre growled low. “I told her what I was.”  
  
“Ah, bet that gave her something to think about.”  
  
Pierre just nodded then gritted his teeth. “I really need...”  
  
Shadows rumbled in his throat. “Let’s go.” He looked at Johnny. “Pup, scout out ahead. If you see Syn, send him to the bar...if you see any of Bouvier’s friends...do the same.”  
  
The Werewolf nodded then vanished without a word. The four vampires strolled out the door and wound their way through the growing throng of people that seemed to have converged on the mall.  
  
“Shit, where’d all these people come from?” Zacky’s nostrils wrinkled and he lowered his voice. “Fuck...their blood smells so...” He paused, eyes darting toward a group of teenage girls and he gave a soft snarl.  
  
The Rev grabbed the back of his shirt. “Don’t even think about it, V. We’re in broad daylight...and we can’t wipe everybody’s minds...there’s too many of them.”  
  
Pierre raised his eyebrows. “You can do that? Wipe people’s memories?”  
  
Shadows gave a tight smile. “It’s necessary. Otherwise, we’d have people coming after us. Either that or having some kind of massive freak out.”  
  
Pierre scrunched up his face. “But, you wouldn’t feed-”  
  
“No, we always find a secluded place for that. That’s why a bar is a good place. You can just hook up with some random and no one will ever know.”  
  
The Rev licked his lips. “Oh, and it’s not like in movies or books or whatever, we don’t have to kill to feed.”  
  
“Even though it has happened on occasion.” Shadows muttered glowering at Zacky.  
  
“What? Why the hell are you looking at me, Shads?”  
  
The Rev snapped, “You’re too fucking fat...and that’s probably ‘cause you drained those whores back in Toronto.”  
  
“He was fat before that.” Shadows sneered, the tips of his fangs glistening.  
  
“Yeah? Well, you can’t talk!”  
  
“I’m not fuckin’ fat.”  
  
“I was referring to draining-”  
  
“I haven’t in 100 fucking years!”  
  
“Bull. Try 27!”  
  
“Don’t even...I never found her, so I couldn’t have.”  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes at their banter but then he heard a voice calling his name. He swivelled his head, a whiff of cinnamon reaching his flaring nostrils. Then he saw Lachelle and Patrick coming toward them.  
  
“Over here!” He waved to them.  
  
The other three vampires stopped their bickering and craned passed him to look. Shadows’ eyes narrowed behind his shades as they settled upon the lithe figure of Pierre’s girlfriend.  
  
He glanced at Pierre from the corner of his eyes. “She’s a hottie...”  
  
Pierre felt a sudden surge of territorial jealousy swell in his stomach, and a low snarl rumbled in his throat as his lip lifted showing a fang.  
  
Shadows chuckled. “Easy, tiger...just stating a fact...not coming on to her.”  
  
Lachelle and Pat approached, Lachelle smiling softly as she came up to Pierre and latched onto his arm. “There you are. We saw Johnny back there...he told us to go to some bar at the other end of town. Pat and I said we’d come meet you guys then go there.”  
  
Pat nodded in affirmation as he stood behind her, then shot a look at the other three vampires, holding his body tense. Pierre absently nodded to his fiancée as he wondered whether his friend could tell what the other men were.  
  
Lachelle frowned at him. “Are you okay?”  
  
Pierre clenched his jaw. “I need something to eat.”  
  
Shadows smirked lightly padding passed them and heading down the mall calling back over his shoulder. “He needs to feed, sweet cheeks.” Then he winked and strode away without looking back.  
  
Lachelle stared after him then looked at Zacky and The Rev. She recognised all three men so, didn’t have any question regarding who they were, but what Shadows had said gave her pause.  
  
“Uh...what was that about?”  
  
Zacky pierced her with his emerald green stare. “I’m sure you know what he meant. Pierre says he told you of his little...issue.”  
  
Lachelle blanched, glancing at Pierre. Then back at Zacky, confusion in her eyes. He just grinned flashing his fangs at her then jogged away to catch up with the master vampire. The Rev just smiled at Lachelle nodded to Pierre and wandered after them.  
  
“Holy shit...” Lachelle held her hand to her mouth then moved closer to Pierre. “They’re...”  
  
He squeezed her gently around the waist, as she tucked her face into his chest. “Yes, they are.” He rubbed at his face then turned to Pat. “You need to stay with Chelle...I don’t want her to be left alone near those guys when we get to the bar.”  
  
Pat nodded stretching his neck. He was not surprised at his friend’s request. Now that he was fully vamp, his territorial instincts had begun to kick in and that meant if any other male vampire went near his girl, he was like to lose control.  
  
“She’ll be safe with me.”  
  
“Thanks.” Pierre smiled tightly. “By the way, do you think they know that you’re-”  
  
“No. They can’t tell. I’m old enough to be able to disguise my scent from them. I smell like human to them.”  
  
“I suppose you don’t want them to know?”  
  
Pat shook his head slowly. “Johnny is the only one who needs to know, and I aim to keep it that way.” He smiled faintly. “The Langlois/Cunningham line and the Seward line go a long way back. It always pays to keep each other’s trust.”  
  
Pierre blinked looking a little surprised. “You knew Johnny’s family?”  
  
“Yeah,” Pat smirked faintly. “I knew all of them. My sister married into the Seward clan...one of Johnny’s uncles. By the way, I’m older than Johnny...by quite a lot.”  
  
Pierre frowned at him, curious. “Uh...well, you’re 27...I hear he’s 23...”  
  
Pat rolled his eyes. “He’s actually 100 years old.”  
  
“What? Then how old are you?”  
  
The Were laughed at Pierre’s stunned expression. “200 to be exact.”  
  
“Goddamn...”  
  
Lachelle peeked up at him then and looked between the two men. “Guys...could you please...”  
  
“Sorry,” Pierre murmured gently, raking his fingers through her hair.  
  
She caught hold of his hand staring up into his eyes. “P...Matt said you needed to...uh...feed...so maybe we should stop yakking and hurry to that bar?”  
  
“Sounds like a plan.”  
  
Pat chortled, unable to help adding, “A simple plan...”  
  
Pierre growled releasing Lachelle and lunging after his friend as Pat took off along the mall. “That’s so old, Langlois! Get your ass back here!”  
  
Laughing softly, Lachelle followed them as they dashed away, shaking her head at their antics. Men, what could you do with them?


	10. Cancer...

_**The Black Rose  
  
2:15 PM**_  
  
David wrapped his arms around his waist darting nervous eyes around the dark interior of the bar he and the others had just walked into. Seb hovered close to his right shoulder, equally as wary.  
  
The other patrons in the bar all looked shady, most of them wearing leather and looking as if they’d be at home in some bikie gang. All of them looked like criminals of some kind, except for several women who trolled amongst them. Though, even the women looked off, like hookers or something.  
  
David grimaced. “Why did we come here again?”  
  
“Because, I told you that Pierre would be meeting you here.”  
  
David looked at the Avenged Sevenfold bassist, Johnny, and scowled. “You didn’t say that this place was scary as shit. Why would Pierre come here?”  
  
Johnny just shook his head and looked at Chuck and Jeff who appeared equally as anxious. “Go get yourself a drink...you look like you need it.”  
  
“I know I need one.” Synyster Gates waltzed passed at that exact moment. Johnny stiffened as the guitarist gave a nasty smile. It softened at the edges as he nodded to the members of Simple Plan then he made his way to the bar at the far end of the building.  
  
Chuck watched after him then shook his head. “Don’t drink.”  
  
“I’ll have yours then,” Jeff smirked and followed Synyster.  
  
The drummer shook his head raking fingers through his hair and looking at his other friends. “So, I guess we wait for-” He got cut off as Shadows, Zacky and The Rev came hurtling in, the three large males skidding passed them, passed Jeff, catching hold of Synyster and hauling him away from the bar. Jeff blinked hard, Chuck, David and Seb gaped watching as they literally hauled out of a door at the back.  
  
“What the?” David shook his head then looked at Johnny. “What’s up with them?”  
  
The Werewolf just shrugged thinking silently, They’re off to feed...where’re Pat and Pierre...? He looked toward the entrance. David followed his gaze. Lachelle and Pat came racing in and over to them. Pat looked tense, anxious.  
  
“Pat? What is it?” Chuck asked.  
  
Pat just shook his head pushing them back. “Get back...Pierre’s coming.”  
  
The drummer scowled. “Why do we need-” he started to ask, but then stopped when he felt a blast of frosty air come through the doorway. “What the hell?”  
  
Pat didn’t answer just looked back over his shoulder. They all looked as well. Pierre strode through the entrance, jaw clenched so tight that the muscle in his jaw bulged, his eyes narrowed as he moved stiffly. Johnny felt a chill.  
  
He shot a look at Pat and ground out loud, not caring that the others could hear. “He needs to fucking feed, right now.”  
  
“I know!” Pat snapped back. “But,” He paused looking around the bar, “Where the hell are the whores Shads was talking about?”  
  
Johnny pointed to the door the other vampires had exited. “That way.”  
  
Pat growled, turned and yelled out to Pierre. “Oi, Pierre...out that way!” He pointed. Pierre followed where his finger pointed to the door, and with a nod, he stalked toward it, muscles coiling, a burning ache in his fangs. He snarled then wrenched the door open and hurtled through it, slamming it shut behind him, the frozen wind blowing after him.  
  
David stared at the door then shot a look at Pat and Johnny.  
  
Chuck spoke up, voice harsh. “You wanna explain what the fuck is up with Pierre?”  
  
Pat shook his head expression tight. “No can do, Chuck.”  
  
Lachelle whispered, “You don’t really want to know. It’s...not important...he’ll be back...”  
  
David opened his mouth to protest, but Pat shook his head.  
  
“David, don’t ask okay...” He heaved a sigh, smearing a hand over his face as he began to move to the bar. “I need a drink. Come on, guys. Don’t worry about Pierre...like Chelle says, he’ll be back...”  
  
The others sighed and nodded following their friend to the bar.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Pierre stood in what was a smaller private room behind the main bar. He scanned the outer walls. There were huge plush sofas lining them. He saw Shadows lounging on one, a woman snuggled into his side, her head tilted to one side. He was nuzzling his mouth into her neck, and then she gasped as he had obviously pierced her vein.  
  
He noticed the others were also in similar positions sprawled around the room. Zacky saw him and flashed a thumb up in his direction then returned to sucking on his woman.  
  
Pierre breathed in deeply the aroma of fresh blood assaulting his senses. He licked at his fangs, the ache intensifying, his muscles trembling.  
  
He heard a motion beside him and then a soft female voice. “Sir...may I be of some assistance?”  
  
He turned his head a rush of lilac, and some other stranger scent, hitting his nostrils. A lithe woman stood before him, barely dressed, wearing a see through gossamer gown. He growled, lips lifting away from his fangs. She gasped but did not back away. Instead, she moved closer and laid a hand on his inked left arm, stroking slowly.  
  
He let his eyes roam over her shapely form then back up to her face. She had deep brown eyes, and long black hair and the smile on her face almost seemed predatory. He bit at his lip, unsure how to go about this. Sure, he’d attacked Lachelle and had fed from Pat, but this was the first time he’d really thought about feeding.  
  
The woman smiled softly. “You need to feed.”  
  
He blinked wondering how she realised that, or even more surprising, why she wasn’t freaked out.  
  
As if sensing his thoughts the woman flushed slightly and waved her hand around at the women in the room. “Every one of us is here to serve the needs of the vampires in this city...” She paused. Then added, “You may have recognised our scent, sir...we are all Werewolves...” She trembled and lowered her eyes ever so slightly, “and we are not free.”  
  
Pierre’s eyebrows lifted. He glanced toward Shadows again and bit his lip. “Slaves? But, I thought...” He rolled his eyes inwardly,  _whores, slaves...what’s the difference, Bouvier..._  He repeated softly, “Slaves?”  
  
The woman nodded, “Blood slaves, and...whatever else a blooded male wants us to be.” She paused, sniffing at Pierre. “You have a female though...”  
  
Pierre mumbled still a little unsure, “She’s human...”  
  
“Ah...so you come here to feed, of course.” The female Were smiled and drew him toward one of the sofas. “Come...feed from my vein.”  
  
Pierre followed her and allowed her to guide him down onto the sofa, on top of her. Leaning her head back, she breathed deeply. He ran his tongue across his lips, bracing his hands on either side of her slender frame. Leaning down he slowly ran the tip of his tongue across her throat. He felt the pulse in her neck jump as the jugular thickened. He hissed his hunger welling in the pit of his stomach.  
  
Her hands fluttered by her sides but she held still waiting. The pulse of her blood in her veins was like an invitation to the vampire propped above her. Pierre snarled and tilting her head back more, bit into the vein and began to pull at the fresh hot, viscous liquid.  
  
As the blood ran down the back of his throat, he felt the ache in his mouth begin to ease. He gulped roughly, shifting his weight so he could pull the woman close to his body as he fed. Just as he did that, he felt a vibration in his back pocket. He growled in frustration and pulled his head away from the woman’s neck, fumbling for his cell phone. He glanced at the caller ID then froze his heart leaping into his mouth, the hunger draining away.  
  
The female frowned as Pierre pulled back and turned sinking onto the sofa flipping the phone open.  
  
“Dad?” His voice strained as he spoke into the mouthpiece. He bit his bottom lip hard as he listened, the atmosphere tightening around his tense body. His brow furrowed and tingles raced up and down his spine. He hunched his shoulders, head dropping.  
  
“No...Dad...has...” He shuddered. “I’ll...I’ll come home...no...I’ll come home, Dad...Dad...” He trembled and began to rock. The woman hesitated before moving closer and resting a hand at the nape of his neck rubbing slowly. He welcomed the contact leaning into her touch as he kept listening.  
  
Then he groaned softly. “Dad...tell...tell Jay I love him...” He clapped the phone shut and shoved it roughly into his back pocket.  
  
The woman drew back, watching Pierre closely. “Sir?”  
  
He squeezed his eyes shut, leaning his head back. Then he opened his eyes and looked at her. She could see a tinge of red in his deep brown eyes.  
  
He forced a smile on his lips, smearing a hand across his mouth, wiping flecks of blood from his lips. “Thank you...”  
  
She shook her head. “No thanks needed. Feeding you is my duty.” She bowed her head.  
  
He smiled a real one this time. “I always say thanks anyway, it’s the right thing to do. What’s your name?”  
  
Her eyes darted up to his and held for a long moment. “Daisy...”  
  
Pierre grinned. “Well, Daisy, maybe I’ll feed from you again...”  
  
The Were inclined her head. “Perhaps you will, sir.” She paused. “You should go now. Your friends will be waiting for you.”  
  
Pierre didn’t bother asking how she had known his friends were out in the bar. She was probably capable of many odd things, after all, she wasn’t human. Neither was he come to think of it. He smiled faintly at her then stood and moved back toward the door, brushing his hand against his phone, a tightening in his chest.  
  
 _Jay...fucking damn it..._  With that thought, he pushed open the door and stepped back out into the main bar, relieved that he at least no longer felt hungry.  
  
“Pierre!”  
  
He jerked his gaze to the source of the voice. Chuck and the others were standing by the bar. He walked over slowly, noticing that Johnny was slouched next to Pat an anxious look in his eyes.  
  
He nodded to them all. “Hey...sorry about that...”  
  
 _Don’t apologise..._  
  
Pierre glanced questioningly at Johnny.  
  
The werewolf stared back at him.  _Just wipe their memories...  
  
How?_ He frowned inwardly at the same time as he smiled carefully at the others and leaned against the bar.  
  
 _Focus on the last image of you they had before you entered the back room...and cleanse it from them as if you were wiping a hard disk..._  
  
Pierre tried it out sensing a haziness crossing their minds, then Chuck spoke up frowning a little.  
  
“Where have you been? We’ve been waiting for ages.”  
  
Pierre bit his lip then absently patted at his back pocket remembering that his Dad had called; he could use that as an excuse.  
  
He rubbed at his eyes and motioned to the man at the bar. “Can I get a Jack Daniels? Thanks...” He glanced at his friends. Johnny shifted away a little giving them some space.  
  
“Dad called...” Pierre swallowed passed a lump that had formed in his throat.  
  
Lachelle noticed the glittering of his eyes and leaned forward. “Hun...what about?”  
  
“Bet he was just checking up on you...you never call them enough when we’re on tour,” Jeff quipped.  
  
Pierre shook his head. “No,” his voice was tight. “It was about Jay.”  
  
“Shit,” Chuck muttered. “He isn’t?”  
  
Pierre trembled. “He went to the doctor...for some tests, was supposed to be just routine, right? But...” He paused and leaned his head back not wanting his friends to see the wetness that had sprung to his eyes. “It’s back...the...the cancer...” He choked on his words and halted unable to go on. He tucked his chin against his chest.  
  
Lachelle stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning against him. “Oh...hun...” Her voice was soft.  
  
Pierre closed his eyes and nuzzled into her hair, drawing strength from her closeness. “Fuck...” He pulled his head back and wiped the back of his hand roughly against his eyes.  
  
The others averted their gazes unsure of what to say to the singer. Johnny shifted again and looked at him, then glanced over at Pat; a look passed between them.  
  
Then Pat pushed away from the bar and murmured low. “He gotta go back to hospital, right?”  
  
Pierre nodded hugging Lachelle closer, speaking quietly not meeting his friend’s eyes. “It’s worse than it was before...they’re gonna do everything they can, but...” He stopped and gritted his teeth. Lachelle stroked at the back of his neck murmuring softly.  
  
Pat sighed then looked at Johnny again. The younger Werewolf jerked his head to the side and stared toward the entrance.  
  
Pat moved closer to him and propped back against the bar again.  _What is it, Seward?_  
  
Johnny shivered slightly.  _No one’s called me that in 82 years, Pat...  
  
Well then, Christ...what’s on your mind?  
  
Pierre’s brother...the cancer...there is a solution...a cure you could say._  
  
Pat bit his bottom lip watching his friends as they crowded around the singer and his fiancée and spoke in hushed tones, comforting him.  _Yeah? What’s that..._  
  
Johnny shook his head.  _It’s not ideal...  
  
Tell me...maybe I can at least talk to him about it._  
  
Johnny clenched his jaw.  _I shouldn’t. Shadows will kill me if I even suggest it.  
  
Damn it, I know you’re scared shitless of the bastard...but what harm will it do? He doesn’t need to know.  
  
Fine. But, I don’t know if Pierre would even go for it. He’d have to turn Jay.  
  
What? You mean...as in turn him into a vampire?  
  
Yeah...that’s the solution. Cancer doesn’t affect vampires.  
  
Shit...I doubt Pierre will go for that.  
  
I heard their latest single... ‘Save You’. Obviously, Pierre wishes there was something he could do..._  
  
Pat closed his eyes and leaned his head back.  _Yeah...but that?_  
  
Johnny shrugged.  _You can only ask..._  
  
Pat sighed.  _Not now...now is not the time._  
  
They both glanced back over to the others. Pierre had his Jack in his hands now, head bowed over it; Lachelle was leaning into his side, stroking his left arm slowly. Chuck was on his cell phone talking to someone. David was dancing about obviously trying to lighten the mood. Seb and Jeff were just standing quietly drinking from their own drinks.  
  
Pat sighed and rolled his neck on his shoulders.  _You seen my father lately?  
  
Yeah...Not so long ago. He’s in good nick...  
  
I bet...I need to go see him while we’re in town.  
  
Wanna go now?_  
  
Pat looked towards his friends again.  
  
Johnny rubbed at an ear.  _He’s fed now...he should be okay without you for awhile..._  
  
Pat nodded.  _Okay...I’ll just..._  He pushed away from the bar. “Hey.”  
  
The others turned to look at him.  
  
Pierre lifted an eyebrow. “What is it?”  
  
“I’m going to take off. I’ve got to get some stuff organised for the bus.”  
  
They all nodded, waving him off. Pierre continued to look at him, dark eyes narrowed slightly. Pat shook his head then turned and headed for the entrance.  
  
The singer frowned then glanced at Johnny.  _You going with him?_  
  
Johnny met Pierre’s questioning gaze.  _No...can’t...I have to wait for Shadows._  
  
Pierre nodded then went back to his drink, finding his gaze drifting back to the door he’d gone through moments before, wondering what the other vampires were doing.  
  
* * * * *  
  
 _Burrrp..._  Zacky slumped back on his lounge, satiated. The woman seated next to him moaned languidly. He pushed her away and turned his head toward Shadows. The huge male was propped up watching the others, expression drawn.  
  
“Shads?”  
  
“Uhuh?” Shadows frowned at the green-eyed vampire.  
  
“What’re you going to do about Bouvier?”  
  
Synyster pushed up from his lounge and snarled. “He bears watching. A new vampire is always some kind of threat.”  
  
Shadows shifted, licking at his fangs, cleaning the blood from them. “He will need to be brought under our control.” He folded his arms ignoring the woman who was trying to offer her vein to him again. “We can’t give him free rein, it would be too dangerous...and I sense...” He paused.  
  
“Sense what, Matt?” The Rev unfolded his lean body from his sofa and moved closer to the master vampire.  
  
Shadows looked up at the tall vampire jaw tight. “He has a lot of unleashed power...and he needs to be taught how to control it.”  
  
“You going to do that, master?” Zacky picked at his fangs with a toothpick.  
  
Rubbing at his eyes and sliding his shades back on, Shadows nodded slowly. “It is my responsibility.” He paused looking at them all. “He is my son, and it is a father’s duty to teach the son.”  
  
Synyster’s eyes widened. “Holy hell...” He shook his head, then laughed. “I’d be inclined to disbelieve that except you  _are_  older than him.”  
  
“Yeah,” Zacky added with a snort, “Especially since Pierre was born in 1979 and you were ‘officially’ born in 1981...”  
  
Shadows smirked. “Well, I don’t plan to tell Pierre that I’m his father, just yet.”  
  
“Then how are you gonna-”  
  
“I’ll just say I’m going to help him out as a friend.”  
  
“Sounds fair,” The Rev commented.  
  
“More than fair.” Shadows cracked his neck, growling low. “He’s more my son than that female would admit.”  
  
Synyster’s eyes glowed. “Serena...”  
  
“You gonna go look for her?”  
  
Shadows ground his teeth together, as his fangs elongated again. “Johnny says she’s most likely here in MC...”  
  
The Rev shifted on his feet. “Want us to hunt her down?”  
  
The master vampire rose, pushing the bloodslave away from him even as she tried to pull him back. “I do not need to feed,” he snapped at the woman.  
  
She sank down and bowed her head.  
  
He looked to The Rev. “Search for her. But do not go near her if you find her. I will approach her myself.” Shadows’ lip pulled into a cruel sneer. “I think it’s time I reminded her of her place...”  
  
The other three large males hissed in agreement. The females they had fed from shivered at the sound glancing at each other, feeling sorry for whoever this ‘Serena’ was.  
  
They watched as the four large vampires moved as one to the exit and headed out, savage determination cloaking them as if it were an extra layer of clothing, the door clicking shut behind them with a horrible note of finality.


	11. Like falling into a dream

_**Simple Plan Tour Bus  
  
5 PM**_  
  
“I bags top bunk!” David bolted up the stairs.  
  
Pierre followed behind hauling his bag up the stairs, grunting. “Take the bunk closest to the shower, you dick.”  
  
“Yeah, gotta agree with you there,” Chuck grumbled as he tossed his bag onto a bottom bunk.  
  
David pouted at them both. “What are you trying to say?”  
  
Pierre dumped his bag on a top bunk and glared at the bassist, smirking slightly. “Oh, let’s see...you stink so bad.”  
  
“Stuff you, Pierre.”  
  
Pierre just smirked, then yawned leaning against his bunk. “Fuck...I need to sleep...”  
  
Chuck rolled his eyes slapping a palm against the wall. “Well, sleep then. We can wake you before we go out.”  
  
Pierre rubbed at his face. “When do we leave MC?”  
  
“The driver says he’ll drive us over night. We’ll meet our tour driver at our morning stopover.”  
  
“Right...so naptime now...then dinner...then we leave?”  
  
The drummer nodded.  
  
Pierre yawned again careful to conceal his fangs. “Well, then wake me before seven, eh.”  
  
Chuck nodded then jerked his head to the bassist. “Come on, unless you’re going to have a nap too.”  
  
David rolled his eyes. “Nah, gonna go do some more exploring.”  
  
Pierre snorted as he lifted his body into the bunk. “You’d think we’d never been to Montreal city before...”  
  
David let out a chime of laughter as he flounced off the bus. Chuck just shrugged toward his friend and followed the bassist. Pierre sighed and lay back on the bunk, closing his eyes.  
  
 _His eyes snapped open. It was dark. He frowned and rolled over onto his side, freezing when his eyes fell on a figure standing in the aisle. It was a woman, and it wasn’t Lachelle. For one, the woman had long jet-black hair that fell to her waist and she was much smaller than his fiancée, barely over four feet.  
  
She lifted her head and he shivered as he met deep brown eyes that seemed very familiar to him. They were filled with a terror that he could not fathom.  
  
He swallowed hard and sat up slightly. “Who are you?”  
  
She trembled clasping her hands in front of her. Her skin was extremely pale almost ghostly. She moved closer to his bunk and gazed up at him.  
  
Pierre bit his lip, shuffling back. “Who are you?” He repeated softly.  
  
The woman’s lips parted then her eyes fell upon his night bag. He frowned following her stare and noticing the corner of the envelope peeking out from the side pocket. He remembered his Dad pressing it into his hand just as he’d left the house that morning.  
  
He stared at it then looked back at the woman. “How did you get on the bus?”  
  
She shook her head and pointed to the envelope. “Read the letter...” Her voice was a mere breath on a light breeze.  
  
Pierre frowned, sitting up more. “What?”  
  
The woman’s voice trembled. “You must read the letter.”  
  
“Why...how do you know...?”  
  
“Pierre, read the letter...you must read it...please...”  
  
Pierre frowned even more. “How do you know my name? Who are you?”  
  
The woman began to fade but as she did she murmured, tears welling in her eyes and rolling down her pale cheeks. “I am so sorry...my son...I am so sorry...please...read the letter...”_  
  
Pierre’s eyes snapped open. Afternoon sunlight filtered through the curtain on his bunk. He shivered even though it wasn’t cold, rubbing at his arms. He glanced into the aisle. It was as it had been before he’d fallen asleep. Bare, silent. The others had obviously gone off to explore as David had said.  
  
He pulled his cell phone from the pocket at the side of his bag, checking the time.  _6:00PM..._  Another hour before he said Chuck should come wake him.  
  
He frowned as an envelope fell out of his bag. Then he remembered the dream, the woman telling him to read the letter...calling him... _my son_... Pierre shivered biting his bottom lip hard. Was that woman who he thought it was?  
  
He breathed in deeply and lifted the envelope in his hand holding it gingerly. Then before he could balk, he ripped it open and drew out a folded sheet of parchment. Something fell out with it. He shifted on the bunk and saw that an old black and white photo had fallen beneath his pillow. He lifted it, eyes widening as they fell upon the image.  
  
It was the woman from his dream. She stared out from the photo a soft smile gracing her lips. The long black hair fell in waves over her slender shoulders.  
  
He swallowed hard and turned it over reading the words scrawled across the back.  _Serena in Laval, Spring of 1979.._.  
  
Pierre blinked hard staring at the date. “1979?” He hissed, clicking his fangs against his bottom teeth. “That’s when I was born...”  
  
He shook his head and eyed the letter cautiously. He knew that reading it would probably answer all his questions. Placing the photo aside, he lifted the letter and spread it out flat on his lap. He let his eyes move over the beautiful flowing handwriting, then he started reading pushing all thoughts away...  
  
 _ **My dear son,**  
  
This is one of the most painfully hard decisions I have had to make in my whole life. Leaving you in the care of humans was not an easy decision, but one I knew I had to make to give you even a tiny hope of living a good life. I suppose, you will want answers to all sorts of questions, like why I gave you away...and even what you are.  
  
If you are reading this then you have already reached puberty and your human family have decided to tell you at least part of the truth. You are a vampire. You are my son. I am a half-breed vampire, that is my mother was human...my father a vampire. Your father is a vampire...a pureblood...but more on him later.  
  
You will have experienced your first feeding by now...I wish I could be there to guide you...but it is not safe for us to be together.  
  
Oh, my son...your father would destroy me...and take you for his own...that is why I had to give you unto human care... Do not hate me for what I have done...I love you so much and wish that I could watch you grow into the powerful male that you are destined to become...  
  
Even your father does not know of the power you will possess...but if he were ever to find out...he would use it to his own ends, he is not a male to be trusted...I hesitate to tell you his name...to identify him to you...he...terrifies me, my son. He is the Master Vampire...there is none other like him. Except you...when you reach your prime...I believe you may become...oh, son...you need to know though it pains me.  
  
He is known amongst our kindred as Shadows...for he is as dark as his name suggests...he was born Matthew Charles Sanders and is one of the few remaining pureblood vampires left in all the world.  
  
Even just writing his name sends chills through me, my son. You will know him if you ever meet him...and I hope you do not.  
  
He roams this world with three other vampires who are just as cruel and worldly as he is...but you will recognise him best by the Werewolf who runs with them.  
  
I have met your father’s servant on many an occasion, long before your birth. Johnny is a creature to be trusted...he is your father’s one weakness...and my one true friend..._  
  
Pierre’s brow furrowed, the letter fluttering beneath his hands; he realised they were shaking. Blinking hard, he lifted his head and stared blankly along the aisle. Then he dropped his gaze and reread the last few paragraphs that he had read. Jaw tightening, he smeared a hand over his face, wiping sweat that had begun to bead at his forehead.  
  
He squeezed his eyes shut and then forced himself to read the rest of the letter. It mostly detailed vampire lore, and what he needed to do should he feel that he needed to feed; such as that as an almost pureblood vampire that he needn’t feed from humans. However, none of that was important; he already knew much of that from Pat and Johnny’s guidance.  
  
 _Johnny..._  Pierre shivered, clenching his jaw tightly, then gave a low whistle that pierced the silence of the bus.  
  
Suddenly there was a soft pop and Pat appeared right next to his bunk. He jumped slightly. “Jesus...”  
  
Pat leaned against the side of the bunk and looked at him. “Not quite, Bouv. You rang?”  
  
Pierre blinked, smoothing a hand over his scruffy hair. Then he thrust the letter at his friend. “Read that...”  
  
Pat noted the tension in his friend’s voice and so started to read, his eyes widening as he scanned the words. The letter fell from his hands after several long silent minutes.  
  
“Holy Hell...” His eyes shot up to Pierre’s grim expression. “M Shadows is your...” He shook his head. “That’s fuckin’ crazy...maybe he’s not...”  
  
“It’s too much of a coincidence if he’s not. I mean...three other vampires...and well, Johnny is the clincher.”  
  
Pat groaned rubbing at his forehead. “Yeah, that would be too much of a coincidence.” He bent down to pick up the letter handing it back to Pierre.  
  
The vampire gripped it close to his chest and stared over Pat’s head into the aisle. “She was here...”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“My mother...I dreamed she was on the bus...” Pierre bit at his bottom lip then picked up the photo and held it out to his friend. “That’s her...Serena...my mother...”  
  
“Wow,” Pat breathed out harshly, “She’s beautiful...”  
  
Pierre smiled then closed his eyes lying back.  
  
Pat looked at his friend, then tucked the photo next to him on the bunk. “I’ll wake you later, buddy...”  
  
Pierre rolled onto his side, curling around the letter and photo of his mother and mumbled softly as Pat vanished from the aisle.  
  
“Thanks, Pat...”


	12. "Who is Sherry Blackwood?"

_**La Porchetta’s Italian Restaurant**  
  
City Mall  
  
6:15 PM_  
  
Sherry Blackwood stood by the front counter wiping sweat from her forehead. It was early in the night, but the small cafe/restaurant was already buzzing with customers. She loved working there; the cafe had a homely feel to it. There were freestanding tables and booths, with red and white chequered tablecloths, spread out over a relatively small area.  
  
Everyone knew everyone else; there were a lot of regulars. Of course, lots of people from out of town also came to the cafe, because it was one of the best small Italian places in the City.  
  
“Hey, hun...table five.” The manager, Joe, tapped her lightly on the shoulder holding a couple of menus out to her.  
  
She blinked, smiling tiredly. “Oh, sorry, Joey. I’m on to it.”  
  
She took the menus from his hand and turned to walk to the booth that he had indicated. Feet away she froze; seated at the booth were four huge, tattooed males, and as her nostrils flared, she sensed instantly that they were not human.  
  
 _Holy merciful mother, no..._  The four distinct scents that floated toward her were horrifically familiar. Images of a long repressed past began to flash across her mind. Then the buffest of the four males turned his head to look toward her, his own nostrils flaring faintly.  
  
Her heart stopped beating, her breath catching in her throat as the male fixed her with a cold stare. His eyes were covered with a pair of familiar dark shades [she never could figure out why he wore those; vampires were not vulnerable to the sun, that was just a human-made myth]. He had a gauge in each of his earlobes, and the artwork that covered his powerfully muscled arms...there were more than when she had last seen him, but other than that, after 29 years he had not changed.  
  
A name she had never thought she would ever think of again, seared through her mind.  _Shadows..._  
  
Sherry gulped fearfully, but forced her feet to close the distance between herself and the four vampires. She clutched the menus close to her breast as if she could shield herself from the master vampire’s icy gaze. He leaned back against the booth and just stared at her. The other three also glowered balefully at her. Three pairs of scary eyes, grey, sable and green, all raking her over.  
  
The green-eyed one smirked cruelly, nodding to the menus. “Those for us, female?”  
  
Sherry trembled, but surprised herself when she was able to answer with a steady voice. “Yes sir, my name is Sherry...and I will be waiting on you tonight...” She handed out the menus being careful not to brush against any of them. She swallowed hard as Shadows continued staring at her. “The specials...” She shivered then continued, “The specials today are a Salmon a La Fungi...and Scaloppini...Soup of the Day is Pumpkin...”  
  
The green-eyed one, she remembered that his name was Zacky, chuckled. “That’s not even Italian.”  
  
Sherry shrugged delicately. “I didn’t write the menu.”  
  
“No, I suppose that human did.” Zacky’s lip lifted the tip of one fang showing. She averted her gaze.  
  
“Did you say your name was Sherry?” Grey eyes narrowed at her. She met the questioning stare of the lanky vamp then turned her head away looking over to where Joe was talking to several regulars.  
  
“Sherry?” The tall vampire repeated sharply. She looked back at him, lips pressed together. His gaze bore into hers as if stripping her bare right to the core of her being. She knew that he could tell that she was not being entirely truthful, and one never lied to a vampire, especially not to one who’d been around for a very long time.  
  
 _My name’s Serena..._  
  
Shadows removed his shades hooking them at the neck of his muscle-shirt. He glanced down at his menu then back up at Sherry.  _Wise decision, Serena..._  
  
Sherry swallowed hard, glancing at the master vampire and catching the motion of his arm, watching the bicep flexing. “Sherry is just a nickname...”  
  
Shadows smirked, crossing one arm over his chest, tapping at the menu. “Well,  _Sherry_ , I think I’ll have the Scaloppini.”  
  
Zacky tossed his menu back at her. “Make that two of those.”  
  
Brown-eyes chuckled menacingly, “Three, sweet cheeks...”  
  
“What about you, Rev?” Shadows cocked his head toward the taller vampire. The Rev sucked at a fang locking eyes with the female. Sherry stiffened biting at her bottom lip.  
  
He smiled faintly. “Got any venison?”  
  
Sherry scratched her cheek nervously. Shadows shifted on the seat, the leather squeaking.  
  
He propped an elbow against the table and pierced her with his bright hazel stare. “You can get him some venison, right, Sherry?”  
  
They didn’t serve venison at La Porchetta’s; however, Sherry knew that wouldn’t stop her from getting it from somewhere for a customer who really wanted it. Particularly if the customer was someone like the four vampires sitting in front of her. One did not deny a vampire request. Anyway, she was  _Serena Volaire_ , vampiress, capable of anything and everything, except hiding from the master vampire, obviously.  
  
Shadows bristled, eyes darkening when she didn’t answer quickly enough to his liking. “ _Serena_.”  
  
“Of course. I can get him the best cuts in town.”  
  
“I bet you can, sweetheart.” The endearment was a threat coming from Shadows.  
  
Sherry licked her lips, straightening her back and holding out a hand. She would not let the master vampire see her fear; regardless that he could probably smell it on her, there was still no point in making it obvious.  
  
“If you’re done with your menus?”  
  
The Rev and Brown-eyes passed theirs over. Zacky retrieved his from where it had landed and handed it to her properly. Shadows held onto his for a long moment, then rose out of his seat, towering over her. Sherry was forced to take a step back and crane her neck slightly to look up at him. She had almost forgotten how big the master vampire was. He stared down at her, expression grim. Then without a word, he gave her his menu and sat down again.  
  
As she turned to walk away an ice cold tingle trickled down her spine and then she heard  _his_  voice whispering from somewhere deep inside.  _We will be watching you, sweetheart...you will not escape me this time._  
  
Sherry forced her feet to remain steady as she walked into the kitchen with table five’s orders.  
  
The cook noticed the strained look on her face and tilted his head. “Sherry, you look exhausted.”  
  
She threw a forced smile his way, as she attached the order to the stand. “I’m fine, Andre, just need a nice long bath after I get off.”  
  
“Wish I could join you...but I won’t finish until 2 in the morning. You know how Joe is about me staying to clean.”  
  
“Yeah,” She tapped the sheet. “Three scaloppinis and one venison with garlic sauce.”  
  
Andre just nodded. “You getting the venison?”  
  
Sherry smiled faintly and headed out the back door into a long alleyway at the back of the cafe. As she stepped out, she felt a soft patter of rain. She glanced up at the dark clouds that had been gathering over the course of the day. They were threatening to release a downpour, but only several droplets of water made their way down from the sky.  
  
She moved further into the alley making to begin her search for venison stored in town when she froze and turned her head catching a whiff of dog nearby. Frowning, she moved toward the scent and then suddenly jumped back as Johnny Christ materialised in front of her.  
  
“Serena?”  
  
“Johnny...” She held a hand to her chest, breathing hard. “What are you doing here?”  
  
Johnny met her gaze, fear in his own. “Shadows is looking for you.”  
  
Sherry gulped then sank to the ground on her heels pressing her hands to her face. “He’s already found me, Johnny...”  
  
The Werewolf shuddered, “Shit. Where?”  
  
“He’s in the restaurant...with the others.” Her voice shook. “Why is he doing this now...I didn’t think he’d ever find me...” Terror had crept into her eyes.  
  
Johnny reached out to rest a hand on her shoulder, then dropped it staring hard at her. “He’s found your son.”  
  
The colour drained from Sherry’s face in a rush. “No...No...merciful mother...no...no...Not Pierre...he...he couldn’t have...no...” She grasped at the Werewolf’s arms shaking him slightly. “Johnny...tell me that is not true...please...” When he just continued to look at her, she let go of him and crumpled to the ground a strangled sob forcing its way out. “No...Please...no...”  
  
If Sherry feared for her own life, it was nothing on the fear that she had for her son’s safety. Of course, she had no fear that Shadows would harm Pierre, at least not in the sense of killing him or anything. No, what she feared for her son was much worse. The master vampire would corrupt her son, and turn him into a monster, that was what she was afraid of, and that was why she had fled Huntington Beach twenty-nine years ago. Fled to the relative safety of Montreal City, left her son on the doorstep of a loving family, changed her name and for all intents and purposes vanished from vampire society.  
  
Johnny crouched down to her level and hesitantly stroked at her hair, the black strands dry to the touch. “I’m sorry, Serena...” He swallowed hard, “I had no choice...”  
  
“What?” Her head came up sharply, eyes narrowing.  
  
Johnny averted his gaze, unable to meet her accusing one. “The master insisted I track him down...I sensed his change...and reacted to it...”  
  
Sherry bit her bottom lip hard. “You didn’t have to tell him...”  
  
Johnny shook his head. “He would have found out anyway. Found him...granted it might have taken longer, but...”  
  
She looked down at the ground and rubbed at her eyes. “What is he planning?”  
  
Johnny bit his lip, “I’m not sure. But, I’d suggest you get out of here.”  
  
Sherry frowned glancing toward the back door. “I need to get back to work.”  
  
“No. You need to leave here.” He paused, his expression taking on a serious cast. “You have to leave; if Shadows gets his hands on you...you will never escape him again. He’ll kill you before you get the chance.”  
  
Sherry trembled shrinking into herself. Johnny could see the terror beginning to cloak her and it made his heart ache. He had never liked the fear that came over her whenever Shadows had been around her back in the Old Days. Now, here in Montreal City, where she had obviously believed that she was safe, seeing that same age-old fear, it pained him even more.  
  
“C’mere, old friend,” he mumbled holding open his arms. The female moved into his embrace and sniffed softly, tears trickling from her eyes down her face onto his shirt. He rubbed at the small of her back in slow circles. She shook, clinging onto him.  
  
He rocked her close to his chest, but then set her back and lifted a hand wiping the tears from her eyes. “You really need to leave.”  
  
“But, where should I go, Johnny?” Her voice tightened. “He will find me anyway...”  
  
Johnny bit his lip. “I have contacts in the City who could find you a place out of town. Or even in Toronto. That’s a much larger city, even if the guys were to go there, they would not be able to find you.”  
  
Sherry shook her head, brushing at her eyes roughly. “Shadows would track me down...”  
  
The Werewolf looked thoughtfully at her. Then grimaced. “Did he touch you in the restaurant?”  
  
“What? No. I was careful not to brush up against any of them. Why?”  
  
Johnny mumbled almost to himself, “That’s better than nothing...”  
  
“What?”  
  
“If you didn’t have any physical contact it will make it harder for them to trace you.” Johnny stared hard at her. “You need to go home, pack the essentials and get out of town. Now.”  
  
Sherry opened her mouth; the Were cut her off sharply. “Don’t argue with me. Go. Go now, before it’s too late.”  
  
She shivered more tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. “Will I see you again?”  
  
Johnny breathed out harshly. “I’ll keep in touch, Serena.”  
  
She nodded then thought of something else. “My son...”  
  
“Do not go near him, whatever you do...please, Serena, that’s all I ask...Shadows already has tabs on him...there will be no hope for you if you go to your son.”  
  
Sherry lowered her head in acknowledgement then stepped back from the Werewolf.  
  
He looked at her, sorrow in his deep brown eyes. “I’m sorry for all this, Serena.”  
  
She bit her lip but then she frowned and looked at him. “Johnny...if Shadows finds out you helped me...”  
  
He held up his hands. “Don’t worry about me, just go.”  
  
“But, he might kill you...”  
  
Johnny leaned his head back. “No...you know that he won’t.”  
  
Sherry caught the fear in the Werewolf’s voice and knew that he was not quite confident of that, but she did not press and just shook her head slowly, backing away from him. “Fare well, old friend...”  
  
He nodded to her, but the urgent light in his dark eyes was enough for her and she dematerialised without another word. Johnny slumped back against the cold brick wall of the alley and then vanished as well just as the rain suddenly came pouring down, lightning flashing in angry streaks across the blackened sky.


	13. The wheels on the bus go round and round...

_**Wednesday May 21st, 2008  
  
Simple Plan Tour Bus  
  
On the Road to TO  
  
6 AM**_  
  
“Australian money? Is that all you’ve got?”  
  
“I’m not betting any of my actual money on this game, you think I’m stupid?”  
  
“Why are we playing poker at six in the morning?”  
  
“Because we can’t sleep on a moving bus.”  
  
Pat, Pierre, Seb, and David sat around the small dining table on the lower level of the steadily moving bus. Pat dumped a sandwich bag filled with Australian 10 cent and 5-cent pieces on the table in front of his friends. Pierre had the pack of cards, riffling through them until he found the two Joker cards and placed them to one side.  
  
David twiddled his thumbs glowering at Pat. “What’s the starting bet then?”  
  
“We all put in 10 cents to be in play.”  
  
Seb shifted on his chair as Pierre began to shuffle the pack. “Are we playing regular or Texas?”  
  
Pierre glanced up and smirked. “Texas.”  
  
“Damn you, Bouv...the only reason you wanna play Texas is because you always win,” David grumbled.  
  
The singer laughed and began to deal out the cards, two to each player. Pat was counting out the change, splitting it evenly between the four of them. But, then he paused as he felt a surge of energy pulse through him.  
  
He frowned and shot a look toward Pierre.  _Bouvier...you feel that?_  
  
Pierre was placing the rest of the deck on the table, when he stiffened, the surge rushing through him as well.  _Uh, yeah...what the hell is that?_  
  
The bus suddenly felt as if a strong wind had pushed against it. It swayed to the left, they all heard the driver curse roughly, and then a light thud and another louder curse as Chuck had obviously been woken.  
  
“ _Tabernack_...”  
  
Pierre looked out the window and bit his bottom lip as his fangs began to tingle. Large droplets of water hit the outside of the bus like bullets and he shuddered slightly as he realised that it was raining so heavily that he could barely see a few feet either side of the bus.  
  
David also noticed this and shivered wrapping his arms around his upper torso. “Holy shit...where’d the rain come from?”  
  
Seb shifted peering out of the window and staring upwards. “It was cloudy all day yesterday...” He pursed his lips, and added, “It bucketed for awhile last night too...just before we left to have dinner...”  
  
The bassist grumbled. “It better not flood...otherwise we won’t be able to get into Toronto.”  
  
Pierre folded his arms as Pat discarded the coins and also stared up into the sky, lips drawn together in a worried line. “That doesn’t look normal...”  
  
“What?” David lifted an eyebrow.  
  
Pat rubbed at his face and muttered softly. “Just our luck...a freak storm...” He glanced at Pierre and added silently.  _That’s not natural...something’s wrong..._  
  
The singer shot a bemused look at his friend.  _Not natural? Are you saying someone is making it happen?  
  
It’s a possibility...there are vampires whose emotions affect the weather..._  
  
Pierre rubbed at his biceps and shifted on his seat as if he were trying to get more comfortable.  _Well, whoever it is must be really pissed off..._  
  
There was sudden illumination in the darkness, piercing through the heavy rain. Lightning streaked out in huge forks of electricity.  
  
David gasped and shrank back on his seat. “Fuck...hope that doesn’t hit the bus...”  
  
“You’re telling me,” Pierre agreed voice tense. Chuck came stumbling down the aisle at that instant, Lachelle close behind. Pierre’s fiancée had her small dog, Delilah, cradled in her arms. The black and tan miniature pinscher snuggled into her breasts, little body shivering.  
  
“Pretty stormy...” Lachelle murmured as she took a seat next to Pierre.  
  
He slid an arm around her waist and drew her closer to his side. “Yeah...”  
  
She glanced at the cards on the table. “What were you guys doing?”  
  
David looked away from the window. “We were going to play poker.”  
  
Pat stood up abruptly and moved away from the table to the front of the bus to talk to the driver.  
  
Jeff came down at that moment rubbing at his smooth scalp. “Mind if I join you?”  
  
Pierre toyed with the deck of cards. “I don’t feel like playing anymore.”  
  
Lachelle leaned her cheek against his shoulder. He smiled softly at her and raked his fingers through her hair. Then he bent his head down and scratched Delilah behind the ears. The little dog snuffled softly. Pierre chuckled then looked up to stare out the window again.  
  
“Looking forward to the show in TO?” Lachelle asked, quietly.  
  
Pierre shifted on his seat watching as the rain kept falling; the engine sounds of the bus drowned out. “Yeah...” He sounded distracted.  
  
Lachelle rubbed slowly at his left arm, fingering the ink that covered its length. “You okay, Hun?”  
  
Pierre lifted a shoulder in response keeping his gaze fixed on the window.  
  
Pat came back from the front of the bus and leaned his palms against the table. “Driver says he can get us safe to TO...but the bus will need repairs...lightning hit something.”  
  
“Well, lucky we’re staying in TO for a couple of nights.” Chuck picked up the deck of cards where Pierre had left them and shuffled them. “You still up for a game?”  
  
Pat sucked his teeth glancing at Pierre. The vocalist didn’t move his eyes from where he was staring.  
  
 _Buddy?_  
  
Pierre continued to watch the rain as he silently asked,  _Any way to get us faster to TO?  
  
Uh...well without freaking everyone out? No...and at any rate only someone extremely powerful could move a whole bus...  
  
Anyone we know?_  
  
Pat slid onto the seat next to his friend, leaning his head back against the window.  
  
Chuck raised his eyebrows at him. “Well, Pat?”’  
  
Pat waved a hand at the drummer still looking at Pierre.  _Yeah, M Shadows._  
  
Pierre pulled his eyes from the window, dark eyes narrowing.  _Matt?  
  
Uh...yeah. He’s the master vamp...he’s capable of anything._  
  
Lachelle noticed that Pierre had moved and saw the look pass between the two men.  
  
Chuck sat on the other side of the table still waiting for Pat’s response to his own question. “Hey, Patrick. You going to play?”  
  
“No, Chuck. I’m busy.”  
  
“Busy? You’re just sitting there.”  
  
Pat groaned inwardly and stared hard at Chuck as if he could silence him with a look.  
  
The drummer blinked then suddenly dropped the cards and stood. “Uh...I just realised...I needed to go uh...” He turned and walked back to the stairs and went to the top level. Jeff, Seb and David looked at each other then got up and followed the drummer.  
  
Lachelle tilted her head then gave Pat a weird look. “Uh...why’d they go?”  
  
Pierre also stared strangely at the other man. “Pat?”  
  
He smirked faintly. “I’ve been around 200 years. Got a couple of tricks up my sleeves. They won’t be back down for a while.”  
  
Pierre frowned.  
  
Pat rolled his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that, P. Anyway, I feel better explaining things when they’re not around.” He smiled at Lachelle. “You can stay, because you know what we are.”  
  
She nodded and snuggled closer into Pierre’s side; he squeezed her gently then nodded to Pat.  
  
“So, what exactly does that mean? Matt being the Master Vamp? I mean...in my mother’s letter...she said there is none like him.”  
  
“Which is true. And a blessing of sorts. If there were any more like him...I’d shudder to think what this world would be like.” Pat scratched at his cheek. “The Master Vampire is a law unto himself. He has the power to call all vampires into his control...including you.”  
  
Pierre tightened his arm around Lachelle’s waist. “Into his control?”  
  
“Yes. You would belong to him.”  
  
“Belong? I don’t think I like the sound of that.”  
  
Pat folded his arms, expression becoming grim. “It wouldn’t be such a problem if you weren’t his son.”  
  
Lachelle’s head jerked up. “What?” She craned her neck so she could look up into Pierre’s face. “Matt’s your father?”  
  
Pierre smirked faintly. “Yeah.”  
  
She blinked rubbing at the bridge of her nose. “But how is that possible? He’s younger than you.”  
  
Pat laughed harshly. “No, actually Matthew Sanders is 2000 years old. He was born in 8 AD.”  
  
“God damn...” Lachelle shook her head in disbelief. Delilah snuffled again curling up more on her lap.  
  
Pierre looked equally surprised. “He’s  _that_  old?”  
  
Pat chuckled. “The Rev’s older.”  
  
The singer grunted. “You know all this, how?”  
  
Pat bit his lip a strange light appearing in his eyes. “I’ve been around 200 years...”  
  
“You keep saying that.” Pierre sucked at a fang then scowled. “How come you didn’t know Shads was my father then? You seem to know all this useless crap about him...and the others...so why didn’t you figure that one out?”  
  
Pat breathed out roughly, meeting his friend’s questioning gaze. “You got me there.”  
  
Pierre’s jaw tightened. “So, you did know?”  
  
Pat gave a tiny nod of his head. “Yeah. I did. I just thought it’d be easier for you to handle the information from your mother if I didn’t let on.” He closed his eyes clasping his hands behind his head. “Anyway, it wasn’t my place to tell you about your heritage.”  
  
The singer turned his head away vision blurring a little. Lachelle nuzzled against his shoulder; he shifted and buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent.  
  
It relaxed him a little and he sighed softly before lifting his head and looking at his friend again. “I have another question.”  
  
Pat nodded. “Yeah?”  
  
“Uh...I thought vampires went...uh...poof...in sunlight.”  
  
Pat laughed. “Have you?”  
  
Pierre snorted. “No, I guess not. But why do people believe that?”  
  
“One: Humans don’t realise that vampires really exist, so they make up whatever they want. Two: vampires do tend to be sensitive to sunlight...but that’s usually just a side effect to the food they eat. Vampires don’t die from sunlight. They might get badly sunburnt though. So, make sure you use plenty of sunscreen.”  
  
“What about garlic?”  
  
Pat snorted. “It’ll just make your breath stink.”  
  
“What about crosses and Holy Water?”  
  
Pat laughed again, “The Sanders were all Catholic. So was your mother. Vampires that aren’t, won’t enter Churches out of respect, not because of anything else...”  
  
Lachelle spoke up then, “Weird how we humans get it all wrong.”  
  
Pat nodded then smirked, “I might add that Werewolves are not humans who go wolf at full moon. They’re actually a subspecies of the Gray wolf...who can shift into human form.”  
  
Pierre reached down to stroke between Delilah’s ears. “So, what’s with the whole Full Moon thing?”  
  
Pat’s eyes suddenly darkened. “We Weres are capable of changing form at will. However, there is a curse that some Weres are born with...where they are forced back into their wolf form at Full Moon, regardless of the situation.”  
  
Pierre tilted his head. “You know any Weres that have that curse?”  
  
Pat stretched his arms and stood. “I’ve only ever met one in the whole of my life. Says it’s a real bitch...” His voice sounded unusually tight and Pierre wondered if his friend was in fact referring to himself. But, he decided not to pry.  
  
Instead, he returned his eyes to the rain that was still pelting down outside. “You say that’s not natural?”  
  
Pat glanced out the window. “Shadows is not happy...”  
  
Pierre felt the muscles in his neck tighten. “Matt again...I still don’t understand about the whole-”  
  
Pat cut him off with a look. “You don’t need to understand except that...under no circumstance should you let him force you into a corner. He’s dangerous.”  
  
“What about the others?” Lachelle mumbled as she traced a flower on Pierre’s bicep.  
  
Pat tugged at his bottom lip. “They’re all loyal to Matt.”  
  
Pierre smiled at his fiancée and caught hold of her hand.  
  
She smiled back but then looked at the other male. “What about Johnny?”  
  
“Ah...his is an interesting story.”  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
Pat shook his head slowly. “Not my story to tell, Chelle.”  
  
Pierre growled, “But, is he to be trusted.”  
  
“What does Serena’s letter tell you?”  
  
Pierre looked away, a faraway expression appearing in his dark eyes. He didn’t respond just staring out the window once more. Yet the words from his mother’s letter spun in his mind taking all space in his thoughts.  
  
 _Johnny...He is your father’s one weakness...my one true friend..._  
  
 _ **A7X Tour Bus  
  
Same Time**_  
  
“How long’s it been, Matt?”  
  
“29 years. And she still smells the same.”  
  
“She’s still fuckin’ tiny...pretty amazing after she popped the little bastard out...”  
  
Shadows and The Rev sat at the back of the tour bus going over the set list whilst mulling over their meeting with Serena. The two eldest vampires pondered what her presence in Montreal City could have meant.  
  
The master vampire could still smell her scent, her fear, permeating in the air even though they had long since left the City behind them. “She is still afraid.”  
  
“Well, that’s no surprise. You did threaten her.”  
  
Shadows tossed his copy of the set list on the small table in front of him and glowered at The Rev. “Fuck, James. It wasn’t exactly a threat. I just said we’d be watching her.”  
  
The Rev snorted rolling up his list and tapping it against a long thigh. “Well, at any rate, she’s not in the City anymore. Someone warned her off.”  
  
“Yeah, and I know exactly who.” Shadows curled a lip fangs showing. He pushed up from his seat. “I’m going back up top. Johnny’s still asleep.”  
  
The elder vampire pursed his lips. “Surely you won’t hurt him over this?”  
  
Shadows growled, his tone brutal, “I would kill him, except that we wouldn’t be able to get a bassist for the tour on such short notice.”  
  
“Yeah, and never mind how messy that would be.”  
  
The master vampire snorted. “Yeah, I’m not really looking to set my fucking eyebrows on fire.”  
  
“Indeed. So...?”  
  
Shadows moved out from behind the table. “I’m not going to do anything too obvious.”  
  
The Rev nodded sagely. “Wise. People might start asking questions if Johnny shows up with obvious injuries.”  
  
Shadows turned and made his way to the second level of the large bus. He walked silently along the aisle to the very last bunk. There was a black curtain pulled over, which he grabbed and yanked back. Johnny lay curled on his side, fast asleep.  
  
Shadows grimaced and leaned against the bunk pondering whether he should wake the Were, or not. Johnny seemed tense even in his sleep as if he were having nightmares. If he had been in wolf form his dreams would have been more obvious, which was the exact opposite to the obviousness of his emotions that were better read when he remained in human form.  
  
The master vampire had to admit he had a soft spot for Johnny Christ, but only to himself and perhaps The Rev. He would never tell any of the others, and he definitely would never let on to the Werewolf that he cared. Closing his eyes, he focussed on blocking out all sound and thoughts then pushed his mind forward until a rush of unknown images flashed into his mind: Johnny’s dream...  
  
He growled silently and felt the tension in Johnny’s mind change.  _Wake up, pup. We have a problem._  
  
Johnny’s eyes snapped open just as Shadows jerked out of his mind.  
  
The Were lifted his head smearing a hand across his eyes and staring up into the vampire’s face. “Shads?”  
  
“Get up.” Shadows’ voice was calm, coldly controlled.  
  
A chill ran down Johnny’s spine and he involuntarily shrank into himself. “Shads?”  
  
“I. Said. Get up.”  
  
Johnny swallowed hard and swung his legs out slowly. Not fast enough to his master’s liking. Shadows growled, seized the back of his T-shirt and hauled him out of the bunk onto the floor. The smaller male winced as he hit the back of his head against the edge of the bunk on the way down. He shuddered cowering in the aisle.  
  
Shadows crouched down a little but holding his body so he loomed over Johnny. “We have a problem.”  
  
The Werewolf trembled and peered up at him. “Wh-what’s that, master...?”  
  
“Oh, I really doubt you need to ask me what I’m referring to, pup.” Shadows’ voice took on a menacing edge. He removed his shades hooking them onto the neck of his shirt. “You spoke to an old friend of yours.”  
  
Johnny shivered and dropped his head. “I was just...”  
  
Shadows snarled and grabbed him by the throat, shoving him up against the wall. He yelped and clung onto the vampire’s thick wrist. Eyes wide he began to shake realising in that swift instant that the master vampire knew what he had done. Or at least had some idea. He stared into Shadows’ eyes, they were almost black such was his anger; and there was murder in their depths.  
  
Johnny whimpered, “I...I’ll fix it...please...”  
  
Shadows tightened his grip and leaned close his voice dropping to a mere hiss. “Oh, you’ll do more than that if you want to stay alive.”  
  
Johnny trembled, gasping for breath. “Anything...”  
  
Shadows’ lips pulled into a cruel sneer as he brought his mouth closer to the Were’s ear and spoke in a low deadly tone. Once he finished he released Johnny’s throat, straightened and strode away. Johnny remained on the floor, head lowered, tears in his eyes and heaviness in his heart. Then without a sound, he vanished from the bus.

 


	14. Out of control

_**Simple Plan Tour Bus  
  
Toronto  
  
Same Day  
  
10 AM**_  
  
Pat and Pierre sat outside the bus waiting for the others to join them. The singer sat with his cell phone clutched tight in his right hand.  
  
“Any news on Jay?” Pat rolled his shoulders as he cast a gentle look his friend’s way.  
  
Pierre shook his head, just staring at the ground. Pat went to say something else but then the vampire’s head jerked up and he stared hard at his friend. “You know, Mom and Dad said that the letter didn’t mention my father’s name...so...either they didn’t read the letter all the way through...or something in it changed.”  
  
Pat didn’t even blink at the change in direction; he just nodded. “You said you dreamed of your mother. These things do happen. Perhaps, she really did appear and placed an updated message in place of the original. Or, perhaps the letter she left your parents was not the one she really meant to leave for you...because perhaps the information in it was not meant for human eyes.”  
  
Pierre raked his fingers through his hair. “I’d say that was impossible...but...Hell...a lot of impossible things have already happened...so yeah...I’m not gonna bother.”  
  
His friend chuckled. “Wise.”  
  
“Nah, just logical.”  
  
They fell quiet watching the door to the bus.  
  
Pat shifted on the grassy verge and rubbed at his left calf. “Talking of impossible things...anymore news about Jay?”  
  
Pierre shot a hard look at his friend. “You already asked me that.” His tone suggested that the subject be dropped, but Pat remembered what Johnny had told him and he breathed deeply, rubbing at his temples.  
  
“There’s no cure, right?”  
  
Pierre growled, bristling a little. “No. If there were, I’d pay for it.”  
  
Pat continued to rub at his temples. “Cures do cost...a lot...they...sometimes...cost as much as a life...” He was beginning to ramble.  
  
The singer looked at him suddenly confused. “What the fuck are you talking about?”  
  
“It would cost...a cure...y’know...to cure Jay...of cancer.”  
  
Pierre’s gaze focused tightly on the Were’s face. “Is there something you know?”  
  
Pat stared hard at a blade of grass. “Nah...nah...you’d never go for it...I mean...it’d cost Jay a lot...and you too...and your Mom and Dad...it’d cost...”  
  
Pierre felt a snarl building up inside him. He grabbed the front of Pat’s Role Model T-shirt and pulled him around to face him. “Tell. Me. Right now.” His voice shifted, dangerously low.  
  
Pat lifted his eyes to his friend’s and saw that they were starting to glow. He shook his head hard. “No...Pierre...it...it’d cost too much.”  
  
“Just tell me.” Pierre rasped out harshly. Pat bit his bottom lip hard. Pierre shook him. “Tell me, Pat...god damn it, you dog...fucking tell me.”  
  
Vaguely, Pat wondered how none of the others seemed to realise this was happening right outside the bus, whilst they were still obviously stuffing around. The atmosphere between and around the two of them had become so thick he almost thought it was a tangible object he could reach out and touch.  
  
Pierre snarled and shoved at him angrily. “Tell me, Pat. Please...I’d try anything to stop all this shit Jay’s going through.”  
  
Pat trembled, wishing now that he had kept his mouth shut. “You can’t be his saviour, Pierre...”  
  
“Just tell me, damn it.”  
  
He relented seeing the despair in Pierre’s deep brown eyes. “Ah...P...Pierre, you’d have to turn him.”  
  
The colour drained from the vampire’s face and he fell back onto the grass and stared up at the clouds. “Hell...”  
  
“Yeah, that about sums it up.”  
  
Pierre groaned pressing the back of his hand against his eyes. “Fuck...”  
  
“Pretty much...” Pat watched him for a long moment. “So, yeah...”  
  
Pierre took several deep breaths then sat up, jumped to his feet and strode toward the bus, his phone clutched close his chest. Obviously, their conversation was over.  
  
Sighing, Pat got up and followed him back on board the bus. It was time to hurry the rest of the band up and get to their first public appearance in Toronto. He just hoped Pierre would forget about the conversation they had just had. The whole idea of turning Jay into a vampire to cure his cancer...not a good one at all, and better left buried under the ground. Completely buried.  
  
 _ **The Palladium Arena  
  
Noon**_  
  
Pierre stood in the middle of the stage staring out at the vast arena. His white T-shirt clung to his torso, slightly see-through from the sweat patches that had formed at his back and his armpits. He gripped his microphone in his left hand absently rubbing his thumb against the head of it.  
  
Pat walked up next to him clutching two steaming Styrofoam mugs of coffee. “Here, bud...” He spoke softly; there was still tension between them from earlier however, the Werewolf sensed that the vampire wouldn’t speak of the words that had passed between them. Pierre’s thoughts were elsewhere at present. Still Pat wasn’t going to tempt fate.  
  
Pierre turned his head slightly, smiling faintly. “Hey, thanks.” He took a cup and breathed in deeply, the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans filling his nostrils. “Hmmm...just the ticket.”  
  
Pat nodded gazing into his own cup. “Uh...Pierre...”  
  
“Yeah?” Pierre returned his attention to the huge arena.  
  
His friend shifted on his feet, shoes rustling against the solid stage floor. “Just...um...let me know if you need to feed.”  
  
The singer glanced sideways at his friend. “You don’t mind me feeding from you?”  
  
Pat shrugged. “Not really.”  
  
Pierre nodded then stared back out again then a thought came to him and he smirked a little. “Does Mare know you’re a Werewolf?”  
  
“Yeah, actually she does.” There was a hint of laughter in Pat’s voice.  
  
Pierre looked at him. “What’s funny?”  
  
Pat chuckled. “The Bramley’s are another family...”  
  
Pierre blinked. “Damn...so...uh...”  
  
“She’s a Were. So, she knows, of course.” He patted his friend shoulder gently. “I know, a shocker, right? I’d be so lucky to find the right woman for me.”  
  
“Who would’ve guessed,” Pierre mumbled.  
  
Pat shoved at his shoulder lightly. “Perk up, P.”  
  
“What? Why? Because you have a woman who’s the same as you? I’m not sure if that’s a bonus. I like Lachelle the way she is, thanks.”  
  
Pat smiled. “Good to hear.”  
  
Pierre breathed slowly then sipped at his coffee.  
  
After several long moments, he glanced back over his shoulder, ears pricking. “David’s coming.”  
  
His friend also looked back and smirked. “He’s still coming down the back corridor...I bet he gets lost before he finds the backstage door.”  
  
“Yeah...remember when I did that, on our first arena tour?”  
  
Pat snorted, “I don’t think it counts since we did it deliberately and filmed it.”  
  
“Hah, you just don’t want to admit that you got lost.”  
  
“Uh, I can’t get lost, Pierre. My sense of smell is too good for that.”  
  
Pierre snorted. “Yeah, well mine rivals it now.”  
  
“True. But you’re just a vamp. Mine is still better than yours.”  
  
“Jeeze, Patrick, I didn’t realise it was a competition.”  
  
“Better a friendly comp than a full blown war...”  
  
Pierre’s eyebrows lifted.  
  
Pat met his quizzical gaze with a serious one of his own. “When I was 118...many thousands of Werewolves were tortured and killed by your kind...but, my family...we escaped to Montreal.” He bit his bottom lip and looked away. “Johnny’s family weren’t so lucky...and Johnny...well we know where he ended up.” Pat shook his head and mussed his hair. “Anyway...”  
  
The backstage door creaked open and rushing footsteps approached them from behind. Pierre gasped as David suddenly jumped on his back, wrapping long skinny arms around his shoulders.  
  
“Woo! Whatcha guys doing?”  
  
Pat laughed, rolling his eyes. Pierre swung around and gently dumped the bassist on the stage, carefully balancing his coffee in one hand and holding his microphone out in the other.  
  
“Just admiring the view from here, David.”  
  
David pouted up at the singer. “What’d you throw me down for?”  
  
“You’re heavy.”  
  
The bassist pouted, then he turned to Pat, who was just watching them with a smirk on his lips. “What’re you smirking at, Patrick?”  
  
“You. You look ridiculous.” Pat snorted, but then a frown passed across his face and he walked away.  
  
Pierre lifted his eyebrows but before he could call out to ask his friend what was up, David tapped him on the shoulder and nodded to his microphone. “We should start sound check.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“Chuck said to start, the other’s will be here soon.”  
  
“Oh.” Pierre lifted the arm holding the mic and wiped it across the back of his mouth. “Right. Um...sure.”  
  
He turned to walk toward the smaller sound desk; a technician was lounging behind it. He straightened as the singer approached. Pierre paused, glancing back over toward Pat; his friend was crouched at the edge of the stage forehead resting in his hands, body held tensely.  
  
Pierre shook his head and looked back at the tech. “Hey, man. I need to check my levels now.”  
  
The technician nodded and flicked a couple of switches. Pierre tapped the head of his microphone and spoke into it gruffly focusing all his attention on the instrument. Whatever was causing his friend anxiety would just have to wait.  
  
So, as he began concentrating on his levels and the others came in beginning to set up, none of them noticed as Pat slipped away, then vanished from the arena.  
  
 _ **Furniture Specialists Lycan Ltd  
  
TO Branch  
  
1 PM**_  
  
Pat clutched his empty Styrofoam cup close to his chest as he materialised in the small downtown office his father worked whenever he was in Toronto. Allan Cunningham sat at a large oak desk the sleeves of his shirt rolled up.  
  
Sweat beaded at his forehead and he was leaning forward speaking to someone who was sitting on the floor. “Are you sure he won’t find you here?”  
  
“I-I’m not sure...but...I had to find somewhere to clear my mind...I...I’m sorry, Alpha...I just...”  
  
Pat stepped closer and blinked in surprise when he saw Johnny crouched close to one of the leather chairs, gripping the arm tightly. “Christ?”  
  
The smaller male didn’t respond; he just stared at Pat with a haunted look in his deep brown eyes.  
  
Pat frowned and tossed his empty cup in a wastebasket before walking forward and sinking down next to him. “Seward?”  
  
Johnny swallowed hard; there was real terror written all over his face.  
  
“Buddy...” Pat rubbed at his nose then looked at his father. “Dad?”  
  
Alpha shook his head slowly. “Johnny was here when I got in this morning...sometime around eight...”  
  
Pat glanced at the younger male. “What’s going on?”  
  
Johnny trembled, shaking his head. His hand clutched at the chair as if it were a lifeline. Then he dropped his arm and wrapped both around his torso, slowly beginning to rock, mumbling almost incoherently.  
  
Pat grimaced, looking up at Alpha.  _What’s the betting Shadows has done something to him?_  
  
“No.”  
  
They both looked at the younger Were.  
  
“No?”  
  
Johnny gritted out painfully, “He has done nothing to me...I...he...dammit. I have to do something.”  
  
“What is that?” Alpha leaned forward against his desk, dark eyes narrowed questioningly.  
  
The younger Were shook his head some more. “I...I can’t...” He bit at his bottom lip so hard it began to bleed.  
  
Pat groaned. “Look, I doubt Matthew will track you down...or be able to hear our conversation...so tell us, Johnny...maybe we can figure something out.”  
  
Johnny glowered at Pat. “This is not your problem. You should just worry about keeping Pierre away from my master.”  
  
Pat bristled, a savage growl building deep in his throat, long gone memories flooding furiously into his mind. “The fuck it’s not my problem. My sister married your uncle. Those bastards killed him...killed all of them. You think I don’t have something against Shadows, and Brian? You think this is not my problem? Not my Dad’s problem?”  
  
Johnny let his breath out harshly. “Ah, fuck...I keep forgetting that your sister was in Huntington during the Slaughter Years...” Those years were when Johnny was barely out of childhood, when the master vampire captured him. Therefore he hadn’t really known the Were who had married into his clan.  
  
“Yeah, so, what’s the deal, Jonathan?” Alpha spoke up his voice now strained tight.  
  
Johnny lay back on the floor and stared up at them both. “Pierre’s mother...Serena.” He hesitated before going on. “She was in Montreal City...and I warned her off...told her to get as far away as possible.”  
  
Pat settled down on the floor, tilting his head to the side. “That was good of you...”  
  
Johnny laughed bitterly. “She’s my best friend...but...I haven’t done right by her...not this time.”  
  
“How do you mean? She’s safe now, right? I mean, Matt can’t know?”  
  
The younger Were clenched his jaw hard. “He knows. He always knows.” He balled his left hand into a fist, banging it against his knee. “He’ll know about this conversation.” Johnny’s voice cracked. “He’ll _kill_  me.”  
  
Alpha let out a snort. “Not likely, son. He can’t kill you.”  
  
Johnny rolled his eyes. “Of course he can. I belong to him. He can do whatever the fuck he wants.”  
  
The elder male sighed, “No. He cannot kill you...you are...” He paused. Pat and Johnny both gave him weird looks.  
  
“Johnny’s what, Dad?”  
  
“Yeah, Alpha. I’m what?”  
  
“Johnny, you’re a Halfling...”  
  
“Oh, that. Right, so what are you saying? That you believe all that shit about how Halfling Were’s are immortal? Come on, Alpha. You know that’s just myth...fiction. It isn’t true.”  
  
Alpha growled defensively but then relented. “No. I meant...I think he cares for you...I mean he could’ve killed you for so many things in the last few decades. But, you’re still here.” He hunched his shoulders and stared hard at Johnny. “What does that tell you?”  
  
Johnny chuckled sourly. “That this was the first time I ever deliberately did anything to fuck with my master’s plans.”  
  
Alpha stretched and leaned back against his chair. “I see. Well, you’re in a right pickle, then. What...what does Matthew want you to do?”  
  
“He said...he said if I wanted to stay alive...I had to...” Johnny stopped and stared down at the floor. “I have to...find Serena...and...” He stopped again, almost choking on his words. “Damn it...I don’t want to betray her...”  
  
The hair on the back of Pat’s neck bristled. He leaned forward, bracing a hand against the floor. “Betray her, how?”  
  
Johnny inhaled roughly, smearing a hand over his eyes. “I have to find her...god damn...it’ll be like leading a lamb to the slaughter. She fucking trusts me, Pat.”  
  
Pat rubbed at his cheek. “Well, maybe you should just...tell him you couldn’t find her.”  
  
“Or,” Alpha murmured, “We could find a safe house for her?”  
  
Johnny’s head shot up and he snarled, “No. I won’t have you risking your neck over this.”  
  
“She’s Pierre’s mother. Maybe...maybe we should bring him into this?”  
  
“Pierre?” The younger Were frowned, the bridge of his nose wrinkling. “Do you think that’s wise?”  
  
“I doubt wisdom has anything to do with it. But, blood...kin...family...has a lot more to do with it.”  
  
“Family...” Johnny whispered, voice hoarse.  
  
Pat clapped a hand to his shoulder squeezing hard. “Yeah, family. You’re my family...my sister...”  
  
“I know, Pat...I know...” He groaned. “I don’t know...about Pierre, I mean.” He sighed heavily as if it were all too much to handle. “Fuck. This is just...”  
  
“Think about it.” Pat squeezed his shoulder again. “We’ll not push you over this. Bad enough Matthew’s giving you shit.”  
  
Johnny gave a wry grin. “I appreciate that, Pat.” He closed his eyes then opened them again. “I...wanted to find her at any rate...even if it were just to see her one last time. I have a feeling she’s somewhere in Toronto. It’s a big city though. So, the guys won’t find her...unless she’s not careful.”  
  
Alpha folded his arms. “We’ll find her...if you want us to.”  
  
Johnny sat up shaking his head. “No. I’ll look for her. Alone. I know she knows you...but it’ll be better this way.”  
  
“Of course.” Alpha stood and came around the desk. “Look, kid. You can hang around here for as long as you need. And I’ll be in town for the whole of this week.”  
  
Johnny nodded his thanks.  
  
Pat grinned. “I’ll be around as well. But, you already knew that, right?”  
  
“Yeah. SP have a gig tonight, right?”  
  
“Yeah, you should come along. Have some fun.”  
  
Johnny straightened his clothes as he pushed up off the floor. “Yeah, y’know. I might just do that. Thanks, dude.”  
  
“Welcome.” Pat raked his fingers through his hair. “Right. I’d better get back to the Palladium...the guys’ll be through sound check.” He nodded to his father; Alpha nodded back. Then Pat vanished without another word.  
  
Johnny watched him go then nodded to the elder male. “Thanks for being here, Alpha...”  
  
“Always, kid. You take care now.”  
  
Johnny inclined his head slightly, then faded from the office a sad smile the last thing the elder Werewolf saw.

 


	15. Are they worthy of an ovation?

_**Palladium Arena  
  
5 PM**_  
  
“Pierre, are you sure you’re alright?”  
  
“Chelle, you know me. Whatever shit’s going on...it gets left behind. I don’t take it on stage with me. I’ll be fine, love.”  
  
“But,” Lachelle paused. The couple were standing by the backstage door talking. The rest of the band was milling around, making last minute checks on their equipment. Pierre leaned against the wall fiddling with the black tie he wore.  
  
He looked at his fiancée with one eyebrow cocked. “But?”  
  
“What if...” She paused again, licking her lips nervously. Then she lowered her voice so only he could hear her. “You’ll be able to smell all that...blood out there. What...what if you suddenly need to feed?”  
  
Pierre chewed at his tongue, realising that his fiancée hadn’t been referring to his emotions regarding the news of his brother’s cancer.  
  
He sighed softly. “Pat will pull me off stage...create some kind of diversion.”  
  
Lachelle peered up into his face. “You’ll feed from Pat?”  
  
Pierre’s dark eyes flickered then stilled as a wry smile formed on the singer’s lips. “Pat’s always willing to do anything to keep a show running smoothly. No matter what it is.”  
  
His fiancée shuddered a little, goose flesh rising on her arms.  
  
He turned and gripped her upper arms gently. “It’s going to be alright, hun...okay.”  
  
Lachelle bit her bottom lip slowly then voiced the niggling anxiety she had ever since she had found out that Pierre was not human. “But, what if you lose control? I mean...you don’t really know if it’s going to be okay, really. Do you? I mean...you can’t know, right?” Her voice quivered.  
  
Pierre grimaced. He could understand her fear; he was just as anxious due to the fact he had not experienced life as a vampire for very long; at least, not knowingly. Still, he didn’t want to think too negatively; all that would do was dampen his mood and that would then lead on to affect the rest of the band.  
  
Shaking his head, he squeezed her arms firmly. “We can’t think like this, Chelle. Gotta be positive, okay?”  
  
Lachelle leaned into his body trembling; he held her close murmuring sweet, reassuring phrases into her ear.  
  
Chuck walked up to them at that moment, tapping his sticks against his left thigh. “We’re about to go on. You ready?”  
  
Pierre lifted his head, nodding slightly.  
  
Lachelle stepped back smoothing her hands over the white cotton skirt she was wearing. “Pierre’s always ready.” Her tone was upbeat, bright, revealing none of the anxiety she was feeling.  
  
The drummer grinned at her. “Yeah, that’s true.” Then he glanced at his friend. “Um, we kept Save You on the set list for tonight. If that’s okay with you?”  
  
Pierre grunted not meeting his friend’s gaze. “I need to sing it tonight. I feel...” He shook his head, straightening his back, squaring his shoulders as if he were about to go into battle. “It’s fine, Chuck. Tonight’s going to go off.”  
  
Chuck squeezed his shoulder several times. “Glad to hear it. The kids are going crazy out there. Frenchie reckons they’re more buzzed than usual.”  
  
Pierre nodded then turned to kiss Lachelle lightly on the lips. “You’ll watch from here?”  
  
She nodded, pressing her fingertips to his cheek. “Pat and I will be here at all times...”  
  
“Good.” He smiled then turned to head out onto the stage, just as Pat joined Lachelle at the doorway a worried smile on his face.  
  
“Pat?”  
  
He shook his head, folding his arms and keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the singer. Lachelle sighed and turned to do the same just as the opening chords to  _Generation_  filled the stadium.  
  
* * * * *  
  
“Hell be damned...the kids are insane!” The Rev blinked as someone shoved at him from behind in the moshpit. The darkness afforded the vampire some anonymity as he gazed up at the stage.  
  
Johnny shuffled next to him, smirking faintly. “Pat said it’d be like this. He reckons that Simple Plan fans could rival Avenged fans any day.”  
  
The Rev glanced at the Werewolf with a frown. “You and Pat seem pretty tight...”  
  
Johnny shot him a tense look. “Don’t pretend you don’t know why, Jimmy.”  
  
His grey eyes deepening to a navy blue, the lanky vampire snorted. Of course he knew. The elder vampire had always known the truth about the young Werewolf’s familial connections. He had been around for a very long time, even longer than the master vampire. Therefore, he knew things that no other person would even hazard to guess. Still that didn’t mean he would disclose any of the knowledge he had gained over his centuries of existence.  
  
“Christ, it’s safer to pretend...especially when Matt’s close by.”  
  
Johnny peered over his shoulder, nostrils flaring. “Did they even come? I mean I told them Pat invited all of us...”  
  
The Rev nodded looking up to the stage once more. Pierre was standing atop one of the boxes, holding his microphone out to the masses, beckoning to them.  
  
His deep brown eyes seemed to glow beneath the stage lights and his deep voice came out in a husky growl. “Scream for me!”  
  
The Rev actually felt a chill sweep through his body, a sense of hidden, raw power, rushing from the singer’s presence.  
  
He shook his head and looked at the smaller male beside him. “They’re here. Just...elsewhere in the crowd. Less likely for us to be recognised if we’re split apart.”  
  
Johnny nodded, his own gaze drawn to the Simple Plan vocalist. “Makes sense,” he mumbled. “Damn...he can sing...”  
  
The Rev had to agree there. Pierre Bouvier exuded charisma, style, and dominant power from every pore in his body. And, his voice sounded like pure sex. Not that The Rev went that way; he was just making comparisons to the master vampire. Matthew Sanders was the only other creature on the planet that had that exact same aura about his person, that exact same energy. Of course, that was not surprising since Pierre was the master vampire’s only known living progeny.  
  
Licking his lips, The Rev scanned the crowd: Most of the fans were screaming teenies, with a scattered minority of mature men and women.  
  
The vampire’s eyes narrowed on a bulky hooded figure standing closer to the stage.  _Matt..._  
  
The figure shifted its stance slightly, lifting a hand to tug the hoodie closer around its head.  _Yeah...?  
  
What do you think?  
  
He’s improved since 2003..._ The larger male’s mind was coiled, tight.  
  
The Rev shivered rubbing at his arms absently.  _I thought so too. Anything else though?_  
  
Shadows turned his head slightly, his profile thrown in relief by the stage lights. As he did so, both he and The Rev experienced a surge of energy.  
  
He tugged his hood even closer around his face.  _Such power...can you feel it, Jimmy?_  
  
The Rev swallowed hard feeling sweat beading on his forehead. He glanced sideways at Johnny, yet the Were was transfixed upon Pierre.  
  
The vampire shook himself and turned his concentration back to the hooded male.  _I can feel it. Do you know what it means?_  
  
Shadows chuckled low.  _He’s something else, Rev..._  He stiffened suddenly, sweeping his gaze away from the stage.  
  
The Rev tensed watching as the hooded figure pressed back into the darkness.  _Matt?  
  
Stay there...something’s about to happen..._ Shadows vanished, but no one noticed except for The Rev. He grimaced but forced his mind back to the stage, where Pierre had run out right to the barrier, climbed up and was leaning over, touching the hands of swooning females as he sang...and then The Rev watched as the younger vampire’s eyes began to glow...  
  
* * * * *  
  
Pierre saw red. As he hung over the barrier, Frenchie gripping the back of his pants, one of his hands touched the fingertips of one of the many screaming females; the other clutched his microphone. He saw red, the whole stadium seeming to glow a screaming, unholy crimson shade. It was the colour of his hunger; the colour of the awesome power that was surging through his veins.  
  
The throbbing, pulsing of fresh human blood assaulted his senses, his stomach, his whole being aching for the sudden flush of blood that he could sense. He tightened his grip on his microphone, knowing subconsciously that he was still singing, still hanging on. But, he had to get out of there, before he attacked someone.  
  
He pulled his hand back from the girl hanging onto him and opened his mind practically screaming out into the silence of his subconscious.  _Get me out of here...I’m gonna hurt someone..._  
  
There was a sudden blinding flash of light and then black...  
  
“Bouvier...Bouv...open your eyes...”  
  
Flesh met flesh with a resounding slap. Pierre’s eyes peeled open but he couldn’t see anything.  
  
He brought his hands up, groaning slightly pressing a hand to his left cheek where the slap had connected.  _Fuck...what...?_  
  
“Hold on there, big guy...” A familiar voice then hands at his neck. He tensed, but then felt the tie around his neck loosening and being pulled away, the top few buttons of his shirt being popped open.  
  
He took several huge breaths before turning his head toward the voice.  _Johnny..._  
  
“Yeah...open your eyes buddy...”  
  
 _They are open! What happened???_  
  
Another familiar voice, jovial yet tinged with anxiety. “Uh...you fainted on the barrier and fell between it and the stage...”  
  
 _Patrick?_  
  
“Yeah,” the same voice spoke. “You’re okay...”  
  
 _I...goddamn...I didn’t attack anyone...did I?_  
  
“No.” Another voice, lilting yet masculine. “We got you out before that happened.”  
  
 _Rev?_  
  
“Yah. The one and only.”  
  
Pierre shivered and smeared his hands over his face.  _How many of you are here? And where are we?_  
  
“Me, Johnny, Pat...and Shads.” The Rev folded his arms, the motion rustling against the vest he was wearing. “And we’re back in the dressing room.”  
  
A deep, raspy voice spoke then. “You didn’t feed before you went on stage.” Shadows moved to crouch by Pierre’s prone form. His tone was somewhat accusatory, but at the same time, worry tinged the edges of his words.  
  
The Simple Plan singer grunted.  _I thought I’d be fine...but obviously, I was wrong...damn...how exactly..._  He trailed off shaking his head in frustration.  
  
Amused snorting from someone, then Shadows growled. “You’d better feed him, Langlois.”  
  
There was shuffling as Pat came to kneel next to his friend. “Pierre...I’m bringing my wrist close to your mouth...all you gotta do is bite.”  
  
Pierre felt a snarl build in the back of his throat. He tilted his head the aroma of fresh blood hitting his nostrils. He reached out with one hand catching hold of Pat’s arm and pulling it closer before sinking his fangs into his wrist, drinking in a steady rush.  
  
As the blood trickled down his throat, he blinked and it was as if black scales fell away from his eyes, his sight returning. He groaned and drank more, feeling his mind and senses coming back to normal. After several more deep sucks, he pulled his head back, licking the wound on his friend’s wrist to hasten the healing process.  
  
Then he scrubbed his hands over his face and focused his attention on the four males who stood around him. “So...” Pierre coughed. “So. How’d I get here?”  
  
The Rev grimaced.  
  
Shadows glared at the taller vampire. “Tell him, James.”  
  
“I...moved you here...knocked you out first...”  
  
Pierre tilted his head, eyes slitted. “That bright flash of light?”  
  
The Rev shrugged. “That was me...it’s something I do.”  
  
“It wipes the memories of the humans.” Shadows commented, then added, “Those with stronger minds will think they dreamed it.”  
  
Pierre sat up rubbing his palms against his legs. “So...you...teleported me here, or something?”  
  
The Rev nodded, “You could call it that. Don’t worry, the others won’t remember it. In fact, right now, Zacky and Syn are back with them telling them that you fell off the barrier, fainted and were carried backstage by security.”  
  
Shadows smirked, “Such is the power of suggestion. They’ll believe that readily.”  
  
Pierre nodded slowly, then grinned. “Pat said he invited you guys...maybe he knew something I didn’t?”  
  
Shadows chuckled folding his arms across his chest. The hoodie he was wearing threatened to tear at the seams.  
  
Pierre’s eyes fell upon the insignia on the navy blue hoodie and he laughed. “Damn, Shads...you still have the hoodie you stole from Chuck.”  
  
The master vampire glanced down then rolled his eyes. Stitched into the front of the hoodie on the left and right sides was the very familiar red and white Role Model (RM) symbol.  
  
He shrugged and brought his stare back to Pierre’s. “It was too big for him.”  
  
“Looks like it’s getting too small for you, big guy,” Pierre countered.  
  
Shadows shrugged again. “I like it too much to give a shit.”  
  
“Fair enough.” The singer stretched and pushed up off the floor. He swayed slightly, frowning. Pat moved to steady him. Pierre shook his head pushing him away. “I’m okay...” Pat bit his bottom lip but backed away, watching as his friend spread his feet, planting his body firmly in place.  
  
The Rev cleared his throat. “You really need some guidance, Pierre.”  
  
Pierre looked at him askance. “How do you mean?”  
  
“Well, I know Pat’s been a huge help and everything, being your friend and all. But, you need some input from vampires who have been around for a while.” The Rev smiled then, revealing his fangs.  
  
Pierre tensed, brow furrowing. “How old are you, Rev? Pat told me that Shads is 2000 years old, right?” He peeked at the master vampire who nodded slowly. His hazel eyes were bright, yet the rest of his face was now impassive giving nothing away.  
  
Pierre turned back to The Rev. “Pat said you’re much older.”  
  
The lanky vampire licked his lips slowly before answering. “I’m 2400 years old. I’ve seen a lot. Been through many ages.” He lifted his lean shoulders in a casual motion. “If you have questions...”  
  
Pierre shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and rocked slowly, sucking at his teeth. “I do have some...” He paused then glanced sharply toward Johnny and Pat.  
  
The latter sensed that Pierre didn’t want either Were in the room when he asked his questions; he wondered why that was, but he would not question his instincts.  
  
He nodded to his friend then jerked his head at the younger Werewolf. “Come on, Johnny...let’s go check on the others. See what they’re doing to entertain the crowd.”  
  
Johnny hesitated for a moment then nodded joining Pat as he exited the dressing room.  
  
Pierre turned back to Shadows and The Rev. The bigger male stretched languidly, yawning slightly, his fangs glinting, reminding Pierre vaguely of a satiated tiger after a hunt. He shook his head to clear that image from his mind, getting the distinct almost uncomfortable feeling that the master vampire was a much more dangerous predator than a tiger. Shadows probably made a tiger seem like a harmless kitten in comparison.  
  
“So, you had a question, Pierre?” Shadows pinned the younger vampire with a penetrating stare.  
  
Pierre took several deep breaths, gathering his thoughts to him. The words of his mother’s letter and the subsequent discussion with Patrick came to the fore as he attempted to find the words he needed to frame his question. He had to be cautious because he did not want Shadows to know that he knew they were connected by blood. That he in fact knew that the master vampire was his father. He wanted to keep that under wraps for now.  
  
“Yes. Two actually,” He finally said into the quiet of the dressing room. “First off...I’m a new vampire, right? And Pat mentioned that meant that you had some claim over me?”  
  
Shadows growled softly, “What did he say exactly?” The muscles in his neck tightened visibly.  
  
Pierre swallowed hard as the temperature in the room dropped suddenly. “He said,” he cleared his throat roughly, “he said that you have the power to call all vampires into your control...that I would...belong to you.” He coughed on the last few words, cringing on the inside and hoping that Shadows would laugh it off or something.  
  
He didn’t. The master vampire just stared at Pierre.  
  
Then he turned away, shoulders tensing. “Your friend should learn to keep his mouth shut.” Shadows tone took on a deadly edge.  
  
Pierre felt a surge of protectiveness flush through his body. The muscles in his limbs quivered in anticipation. “Why?”  
  
The master vampire looked back at him. “No need to get defensive. Pat told you the truth. In part. He got one thing wrong though.”  
  
Pierre frowned, “What was that?”  
  
“You already belong to me. You were mine as soon as you were born.” A cold smile flashed across his lips. “Much to your mother’s disappointment.”  
  
Pierre shuddered taking several steps back. “What do you mean?”  
  
“I’m sure you know. She abandoned you in hopes that she could keep you away from me. But, the world is a strange place and fate likes to play tricks on us.” Shadows shrugged powerful shoulders. “At any rate, she knew she couldn’t really protect you.”  
  
Pierre clenched his teeth, rubbing at his jaw. He still didn’t want the other vampire to realise that he knew he was his son. “Why would she need to protect me from you?”  
  
Shadows just smirked cruelly. “It doesn’t matter now. It didn’t work. Because, here we are.”  
  
Pierre grimaced.  
  
The master vampire stalked close to him and leaned forward, hazel eyes flashing red. “By the way...if you’re wondering how to control your hunger...your best bet would be virgin blood...but remember...they don’t come willingly.” Shadows winked then without another word vanished from right in front of him.  
  
Pierre blinked then glanced at The Rev. “What...?”  
  
The older vampire chuckled. “Can you stomach the things you need to do to survive, Bouvier? That is the question.”  
  
The Rev gave a small wave and disappeared after his master leaving Pierre alone to ponder what the hell just happened, and with the realisation that he never got to ask his second question.

 


	16. Break free...

_**A7X Tour Bus  
  
Same Night  
  
9 PM**_  
  
“Where’d you go, Johnny?”  
  
The Were was slouched in his bunk clutching a pack of smokes close to his chest. The Rev leaned against the toilet door, which was opposite Johnny’s bunk. They had just returned from the Simple Plan concert and were first back on the bus.  
  
“Pup?”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“Where did you go after Shads talked to you?”  
  
Johnny glanced sideways at the tall vampire. “Why do you want to know?” His tone was cautious.  
  
The Rev braced his hands back against the wall and pushed forward; his eyes were a light dusky blue. “I’m not going to tattle on you.”  
  
Johnny shook his head running a palm over his hair. “Just...to see my contact. He was here in TO for a business trip.”  
  
The vampire moved closer so he was leaning on the Were’s bunk. “Tell me. Do you know that the Montreal Weres’ originated in Huntington?”  
  
Johnny tensed, but tried to remain detached. “Really?”  
  
“Uhuh. And you know that.”  
  
Johnny glanced at The Rev; surprisingly the vampire’s tone was not even mildly accusing. “What if I do?”  
  
The Rev sighed heavily. “Your contact. Is he your blood?”  
  
Johnny looked away, staring out the window. He could see Shadows and Zacky hanging outside the bus taking in the fresh air. He blinked slowly, his gaze fixing on the master vampire thoughts zipping around his mind.  
  
Eventually he turned his head back to the elder vampire and smiled grimly. “His name is Alpha. He heads the Langlois/Cunningham line. One of his daughters’ married into my family...but...she was killed during the Slaughter Years, back in Huntington. The rest of her kin had already fled to Montreal...but she remained with my family.”  
  
The Rev frowned, digesting that piece of information. “Patrick...Simple Plan’s Patrick...he’s your kin?”  
  
“Yeah, in a way.”  
  
The vampire rubbed at his bottom lip. “Matt doesn’t know about this, does he?”  
  
Johnny trembled. “Don’t tell him, Rev. Pat...and Alpha trust me...trust that I won’t-”  
  
“Don’t worry. What’s to tell anyway? He’s too busy worrying about Pierre.”  
  
The Were bit his lip and mumbled, “I told them about what Shads ordered me to do...concerning Serena.”  
  
The Rev’s gaze hardened. “What was that?”  
  
Johnny bit his lip hard. “Jimmy...Serena was my friend...”  
  
“I know. But, Matt doesn’t care about that.”  
  
“He wants me to find her and bring her to him...or lead him to her.” Johnny leaned his head back, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as a pained ache clenched his heart. “Either way...she loses...”  
  
The Rev leaned down picking at a stitch that had begun to unravel from his jeans. “You’ll have to do it.” His voice muffled as he tucked his chin into his chest.  
  
Johnny huffed. “I know. He’ll kill me if I don’t.”  
  
The Rev bit his lip. That of course was the supposed fate the Were would suffer if he disobeyed the master vampire. However, The Rev knew otherwise. Sure, Shadows could threaten Johnny as much as he wanted; he did own the Were. But, there was one thing the master vampire didn’t realise, and that was the promise The Rev had made to Johnny’s mother almost eighty years ago.  
  
Of course, over the course of the past decades, The Rev had dug deep into his heart and informed Johnny of the oath he had sworn. So, besides the fact that Shadows had a soft spot for his servant, The Rev, the vampire assassin, was the Were’s secret guardian.  
  
Naturally, Johnny did not know or understand the full extent of the vampire’s oath, especially since he still feared for his life if Shadows was angry with him.  
  
He rolled onto his side and stared at The Rev. “Right?”  
  
“Yeah. Right. So, do what you have to do.”  
  
Johnny chewed on his bottom lip. “I hope Pierre’s alright after that little episode.”  
  
“Uh. Yeah. Matt dropped the virgin line on him.” The Rev turned to leave.  
  
Johnny gulped. “He did  _what?_ ”  
  
“You heard me, Johnny.”  
  
“No...no way. He didn’t do that. That’s all a load of bullshit. Anyway. Fuck...if Pierre tastes virgin blood...”  
  
The Rev’s expression tightened as he swung back round to face the Were. “What do you know?”  
  
Johnny backed up on his bunk sensing the vampire’s mood abruptly shifting. “Nothing...which is the real problem...I mean...” He hesitated, then continued hurriedly. “He’s Shads’ son, his only child...the only son of the master vampire...that’s got to mean something.”  
  
The Rev softened, knowing full well that the Were knew nothing. “Ah...Johnny...go have a fuckin’ smoke.”  
  
He turned, walked away down the aisle just as the door opened on the lower level and Shadows’ heavy footsteps could be heard entering the bus. Johnny shook himself, grabbed his smokes and vanished from his bunk.  
  
The last thing he heard before he completely dematerialised was the master vampire’s raspy voice yelling out angrily. “Johnny Christ, you get your fuckin’ ass back here!”  
  
 _ **Simple Plan Tour Bus  
  
9:30 PM**_  
  
The soft rustling of clothes as two people lay together in a single tiny bunk reached Johnny’s ears as he materialised almost directly on top of the dark haired SP bassist. He froze holding his breath afraid that he would wake David. When the other bassist only rolled over and mumbled into his pillow, Johnny relaxed and sprang silently out of the bunk and peered down the aisle.  
  
Nostrils flaring he had to quell a sudden bubble of laughter. There was sex in the air and an extremely aroused male vampire was in the middle of something down the other end of the bus. Rolling his eyes, Johnny crept along the aisle, but as he passed a single bunk to his left, a hand shot out and tugged at the back of his shirt.  
  
 _Johnny. What the fuck are you doing here?_  
  
He swung his head around.  _Pat?_  
  
Pat popped his head out of the bunk.  _Yeah...um. Don’t disturb Pierre. He’s busy..._  
  
Johnny’s lip lifted slightly.  _I could smell it._  
  
Pat nodded then shifted his body around.  _So, what’s doing?_  
  
Johnny slid down by the bunk, wrapping his arms around his knees, propping his chin on top of them. _Had to get away..._  He pressed his face into his knees.  
  
The other Were sat up more, frowning. He said nothing though, feeling that if Johnny wanted to tell him what was going on he would. They sat in silence for a while.  
  
Then they heard a soft thud the sound of more rustling, muffled voices and then feet padding toward them.  
  
“Hey?”  
  
Johnny looked up. Pierre stood there looking at the two of them a quizzical expression on his face.  
  
He raked fingers through his tousled hair. “Johnny?” He adjusted the waist of his black boxers. The silk rustled.  
  
Johnny bit at his bottom lip. “Pierre.”  
  
“What’s doing?”  
  
 _Pat just asked me that..._  
  
“No need to be quiet...everyone else is dead to the world...and um...Chelle...she’ll go back to the back room in a moment...”  
  
“Yeah, but they’ll wonder how I got here...”  
  
Pierre shrugged. “Nah. Don’t worry about it.”  
  
“Okay...”  
  
“So, what’s up?”  
  
Johnny sighed and looked away, fingering a seam on his jeans. Then he slowly lifted his gaze back to Pierre’s curious one. “I’m looking for your mother.”  
  
Pat blinked in surprise.  
  
Pierre’s pupils dilated. He slowly sank to a crouch in front of Johnny and braced his left forearm against the wall, leaning close. “My real mother?” His eyes narrowed. “Why would you be doing that? She’s probably long dead.”  
  
The Were snorted softly. “Why would I be looking for someone who is dead, Bouvier?”  
  
Pierre shrugged. “Who knows? Morbid curiosity?”  
  
Johnny grunted. “No.” He looked down at his hands. “I saw her back in Montreal just last night.”  
  
Pat shivered. “Where did she go, Johnny?”  
  
Pierre growled, “You can’t seriously think that she’s alive?”  
  
His friend glowered at him. “Why would you be thinking she’d be dead, eh? She’d only be fifty something years old...fifty year olds don’t tend to die if they’re healthy.”  
  
Johnny chuckled sourly. “She’s actually 1,982 years old. But, age is not an issue for vampires.” He leaned his head back and stared hard at Pierre. “At any rate...she doesn’t look a day older than when Shads first met her...”  
  
“Which was?”  
  
Johnny wiped a hand over his face. “1947. She...appeared 24.”  
  
Pierre frowned faintly looking a little confused.  
  
Pat spoke up, his voice soft. “She was already 1,921 years old when she met Matt.”  
  
“ _Merde_...so...” The singer shook his head unable to take that information in. “You really see her last night?”  
  
Johnny gave Pierre a scathing look. “Would I make something like that up?”  
  
“No...” Pierre sighed. “I guess not. Where do you think she is?” He shifted back and folded his arms across his bare chest.  
  
“No idea. I just need to find her and...” he paused clearing is throat. “You have to meet her.”  
  
Pat jolted remembering the discussion at his father’s office. He sat up more in his bunk. “Johnny. Tell him why...”  
  
Johnny nodded his face taking on a grey tone. “Shadows wants me to find her. I’m scared that he’ll hurt her. But, if I find her and bring her to you...maybe you’ll be able to protect her.”  
  
Pierre rubbed his chin thoughts passing across his face, brown eyes introspective. “You say she looks 24? That’s going to be a bit weird for me. Since I’m 29...”  
  
Johnny chuckled, “I didn’t think of that...” He stretched his neck slowly. “I’m sure it won’t really matter though. It’s not as if you’d think of her as your mother, anyway. You could just become friends.”  
  
The vampire looked away chewing slowly at his bottom lip. “Maybe...”  
  
“Or maybe not...” Johnny chocked his head to the side, then nodded back down the aisle. “You and Chelle...?”  
  
Pierre smiled softly, eyes going a honeyed colour. However, he said nothing, just ran his palm up and down his bare chest sucking at his bottom lip.  
  
Pat rolled his eyes and looked at Johnny.  _They haven’t actually..._  
  
“Don’t even, Pat...” Pierre growled low the sound rumbling in his chest.  
  
The elder Were lifted his hands in defence. “I said nothing.”  
  
Pierre snorted. “Right. I’m gonna hit the hay...don’t forget to wake me, Pat.” He nodded to Johnny. “I’ll think about that thing...with my mother.”  
  
The younger Were lifted a hand and waved. “Just...call me...”  
  
Pierre smirked and made his way back to his bunk. Johnny and Pat watched as he lifted his body easily into the bunk and disappeared from view. Then they looked at each other.  
  
“So, you’ll keep looking for his mother?”  
  
Johnny eased back onto is feet. “Yeah. And, you’ll be the first to know.”  
  
“What about Matt?”  
  
Johnny drew in a sharp breath, smearing his hands roughly over his face. “Let me worry about my master...”  
  
Pat sighed, “You really gotta break free of him...”  
  
“I can’t...” He fingered the piercing at his left nostril. “Nothing can reverse what’s been done in the past.”  
  
“Bullshit.”  
  
Johnny ground his teeth together, tugging at the piercing. “Don’t, Pat.” He looked down the aisle. “I have to go.”  
  
Pat slumped back in his bunk with a groan. “Go then.” He rolled over, a dismissal.  
  
The younger Were blinked twice then vanished without another thought.  
  
 _ **Thursday May 22nd, 2008  
  
9 AM**_  
  
“One interview...one small acoustic set. What do you think?”  
  
The next morning, Pierre and Chuck lounged on the lower level of the bus, munching their way through a box of cereal that Pat had bought half an hour earlier. Pierre poured milk over his and shovelled a spoonful into his mouth whilst he thought about what his friend just said.  
  
“Well?” Chuck held the itinerary out in front of him like a fan.  
  
Pierre swallowed, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. “Sounds good. Not too bad. Not today though?”  
  
“No. Today we can do whatever. That’s all for tomorrow.”  
  
Pierre nodded. “Great, because Avenged have their show tonight. Johnny invited us along.”  
  
“Cool. Haven’t seen them in a while.” Chuck rubbed at the back of his neck. “Haven’t been to a decent rock concert in ages, either.”  
  
The singer snorted. “Been too busy going to all those hip-hop gigs, eh?”  
  
“Shut up...” Chuck mumbled going a light shade of pink.  
  
Pierre laughed low. “I’m sorry, I can hardly talk anyway. I went to most of them with you.”  
  
“Exactly. So, shut up.”  
  
Pierre smiled and went back to his cereal.  
  
David joined them, moments later, balancing a bowl of fruit. “Hey guys, want some banana?”  
  
“No thanks,” Pierre muttered around a mouthful of cereal. Chuck shook his head as he kicked his legs out in front of him.  
  
David shrugged and plopped down next to Pierre. “Chelle took Delilah out to pee.”  
  
“Yeah, we know...she was up way early.” The singer drained the milk from his bowl and stood. “Hey, Chuck?”  
  
“Yeah?” Chuck looked up at his friend.  
  
“Are we going to stay in the bus? Or find a hotel?” Pierre lifted an eyebrow.  
  
The drummer tapped his fingers against his thigh. “We’ll stay on the bus. That’s the whole point.”  
  
“Fair enough.” Pierre turned and walked over to the small sink putting the bowl under the tap, rinsing it out. Then he placed it upside down in the sink and wandered off the bus.  
  
Lachelle was standing on the grassy verge, Delilah was on her leash wandering around, sniffing at every single blade of grass. Pierre smiled and walked over to stand behind his fiancée, winding his arms around her waist and linking his hands together.  
  
She looked up at him, resting her hands over his larger ones. “Hey there, lover...”  
  
Pierre nuzzled into the back of her neck lightly.  
  
She shivered, her breath catching slightly. “Pierre...”  
  
He smirked mumbling into her hair. “Can’t wait...”  
  
Lachelle peeked back at him squeezing his hands. “Until what?”  
  
Pierre just shook his head drawing in a slow breath, enjoying the aromas that he could pick up from her essence.  
  
She smiled faintly then glanced down toward Delilah who was sitting now looking up at them head cocked to the side. “Look, P...Delilah’s wondering what we’re doing.”  
  
Pierre looked down at the little dog and smiled softly. “Hey there, girlie. You done your thing?”  
  
“I’m sure she has,” Lachelle turned in his arms and met his gaze with her own. “You wanna go do our thing, Mr Vamp?”  
  
Pierre chuckled, nuzzling the tip of his nose against hers. “Sure thing...just touchy feely, right?”  
  
“Yes, that’s got to wait until we’re married.”  
  
“Fair enough.” Pierre released his hold around her waist and bent down to lift Delilah into his arms. “I guess D can be our only child for a little while longer.”  
  
Lachelle laughed then turned to walk back to the bus, tossing strands of hair back over her shoulder. Pierre grinned, carrying their little dog in his arms as he followed.  
  
Stepping back onto the bus, it was obvious that the rest of the band were now ready. David had finished his fruit and was absently tossing his fedora up and down into the air, mumbling to himself. Chuck was on his phone talking to someone important, judging by the conciliatory tone of voice he was using. Jeff was sitting tailor-style on a chair playing on his acoustic. Seb was sitting next to him pointing out a couple of different chords.  
  
And, Pat...well Pat wasn’t there.  
  
Pierre’s nostrils flared slightly as he smirked inwardly. The Were was probably off feeding somewhere, or organising shit for the band, or taking a piss, or whatever it was he did when he wasn’t around the band.  
  
Setting Delilah down on the floor, Pierre glanced at his band mates, the light scent that each one of them gave off flickering toward his nostrils and making his salivary glands work a little.  
  
Biting at his lip, he walked further onto the bus before announcing to the bus in general. “Guys...I gotta disappear for a few...” He glanced at Chuck. “I’ll meet you guys at the radio station?”  
  
Luckily, Chuck wasn’t in the mood to ask his friend where he was disappearing to and so just waved a hand at him and mouthed in reply. “Ten thirty...don’t be late.”  
  
Pierre nodded, then turned to Lachelle touching her cheek lightly. “I'm sorry but I gotta...y'know? So, I’ll see you then...okay?”  
  
She nodded an anxious light shining in her eyes. He dropped a light kiss to her lips then swung around and left the bus again. Lachelle watched him go then sighed, sitting down next to Chuck to wait until it was time to go.


	17. Interlude

_** ** _

_**Same Day  
  
TO Radio Station  
  
10:30 AM**_  
  
“So, why are we here again? I thought I heard you tell Pierre we don’t have any commitments until tomorrow?” David slouched on a sofa in the artist dressing room at the back of the local radio station. Seb sat on the floor with Jeff playing a game of cards.  
  
Chuck sat opposite them scrolling through his BlackBerry phone, sucking at his bottom lip. He lifted his head at the bassist’s question. “What’s that?”  
  
“Why are we here, Chuck?”  
  
The drummer rolled his eyes. “We’re giving a fan a little surprise.”  
  
“Just one?”  
  
“Yes, a young woman who works here, her younger brother has leukaemia and is a massive fan of the band. The woman asked if she could bring her brother in to meet us.”  
  
David grinned. “That’s sweet.”  
  
“Yeah, it is.” Chuck smiled. “I just hope Pierre gets here soon. I told him ten thirty...”  
  
Pat walked into the room camera clutched in his right hand; hearing the drummer’s comment he lifted his head from the tiny monitor. “Pierre’s on his way here.”  
  
“Oh. Good. Doesn’t pay to be late.”  
  
David snorted. “Pierre’s never late.”  
  
Chuck rolled his eyes and said, “No, that’s usually you who’s late. I keep forgetting that.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, yeah...you keep telling yourself that, Comeau.” David slapped the drummer on the shoulder and fell back on the couch closing his eyes, kicking his legs out causing Seb to protest as he knocked a pile of cards all over the floor. The bassist just giggled shifting his weight about, getting comfortable. The two guitarists shook their heads at him and after restacking the cards, resumed their game.  
  
Pat flopped down next to them and poked his camera into their faces, grinning madly. “Come on you two...tell me what you’re doing...”  
  
“We,” Seb smirked, “are playing a new game that I came up with. It’s called... ‘let’s see how many times I can beat Stinco at Snap!’”  
  
Jeff laughed. “Yeah right, it’s called ‘let’s see me whoop Sebastien’s ass!’”  
  
Pat snorted, “It’s way too easy to beat you at cards, Jeff. Way too easy.”  
  
The bald guitarist pretended to look sad. Seb chortled sweeping the cards up then dealing them out. Pat trained the camera on the two piles of card and rambled aimlessly as the other two men proceeded to play Blackjack.  
  
* * * * *  
  
“Lu...I can hear someone...” A pale young boy huddled on a sofa in the staff coffee room watching as a woman with long mahogany hair rifled through a stack of files.  
  
The woman lifted her head. “What is it, Shamus?”  
  
The boy’s nostrils flared and he turned his head. “Smells like-”  
  
“Oof...fuck...ouch...” A deep masculine voice cursed from the back of the room.  
  
The woman and the boy looked over and blinked as a young male vampire materialised next to the standing fridge swaying slightly. Dark hair fell into deep brown eyes and he braced his inked left arm against the side of the fridge. The boy shifted on his seat.  
  
The woman tilted her head slightly, smiling in bemusement. “Can I help you, sir?”  
  
The male rubbed at his eyes and mumbled to himself. “Shit...that feels fuckin’ weird...”  
  
The woman giggled softly. “First time you’ve done that, eh?”  
  
The male blinked as if realising for the first time he wasn’t alone. “ _Merde_...” He stared hard at the woman taking in her appearance, a small frown creasing his brow. “You...” He paused, eyes narrowing.  
  
She smiled and walked away from her files and stopping in front of him. “It’s okay, I’m one as well. It’s always a little strange the first time you do that.”  
  
The male bit his lip the tips of his fangs peeking out from his top lip. “You?”  
  
“I’m Luna.” The woman brushed fingertips through red locks.  
  
The male smiled tilting his head slightly. “Pierre Bouvier.”  
  
“Oh?” Luna rubbed at her arms, recognising the name as that of the singer of the band she was supposed to be meeting shortly. “Your band is out there waiting for you.”  
  
Pierre arched an eyebrow. “You’re the woman whose brother-?”  
  
“The lad’s really not my brother...” They both looked to the boy seated on the couch. He sat up chocking his head to the side, large black eyes staring solemnly at them. “He is a Lycan...”  
  
The boy growled softly, “The name’s Shamus Cunningham.”  
  
Pierre blinked surprise in his eyes. “Any relation to, Patrick?”  
  
Shamus smirked. “Half brother.”  
  
Pierre rubbed his jaw. “So...you don’t really have Leukaemia?”  
  
The young Werewolf laughed bitterly. “Who needs cancer when you have the Lunar Curse?”  
  
The singer’s face took on a serious cast as he remembered the comment Pat had made about the Full Moon curse. So, this must have been the person he was referring to.  
  
“Ah...but, I suppose your everyday human wouldn’t understand?”  
  
Shamus shook his head. “It’s easier to let them think I have some kind of fatal disease.”  
  
Pierre nodded but then looked away his thoughts turning abruptly to his elder brother, Jay. If only that were true for him. He would give anything to cure his brother’s cancer.  
  
Luna sensed the melancholy in the male’s thoughts and gently eased the conversation in a different direction. “Shamus is a huge fan of Simple Plan.”  
  
The youngling nodded.  
  
Pierre forced a smile on his lips. “Well, then we’d better take him out to meet the rest of the band.”  
  
“May I get your autograph first?” Shamus held out a worn CD cover. Pierre noted that it was from the band’s first record,  _No Pads..._  Smiling he pulled a Sharpie from his back pocket, yanking the lid off with his teeth and signing his name with a flourish.  
  
“There you go, pup.” He grinned. The Were smiled broadly clutching the cover close to his chest.  
  
Luna nodded slightly a graceful smile playing on her lips. “Thankyou...”  
  
Pierre shook his head. “Don’t thank me, Luna.” He waved a hand toward the door. “Come. You said the guys are waiting for us.”  
  
Luna smoothed a hand over the beige slacks she was wearing and straightened the collar of her simple white blouse. “Yes. Some of them have been playing cards.”  
  
“And, Patrick has been fiddling with that camera of his. Dad swears he’s attached to it permanently.” Shamus’ lip curled a little.  
  
Pierre chuckled. “That’s almost true, kid.”  
  
The youngling rolled his eyes and taking hold of the female’s hand headed for the door. Pierre followed them out to the room where his friends’ were waiting.  
  
Chuck was the first to look up, eyes widening slightly. “Pierre?”  
  
“Yeah...that’s me,” Pierre smirked, then waved a hand toward Luna and Shamus. “I found them on the way here.”  
  
The drummer turned to the woman and the boy and grinned. “Hello. I’m Chuck.”  
  
Shamus made a show of looking as if he were in awe, mouth working slowly as if in disbelief. The smile on Luna’s lips was almost shy. Pierre drew back allowing the rest of the band to approach and greet them.  
  
Pat who was still glued to his camera glanced sideways at the singer, eyes narrowing slightly.  _Pierre...I smell...vamp..._  
  
Pierre came to stand next to him.  _Recognise your half brother?_  
  
Pat blinked and stared down the viewfinder at the boy.  _Holy shit...Shamus...but...the female? Isn’t that...?_  
  
Pierre folded his arms smiling tightly as he observed the others taking photos with Shamus and Luna. _Her name’s Luna...she’s...the same as me._  
  
Pat lowered his camera from his eyes and turned his head to look at Pierre, his face was pale.  _I know, Pierre. I know who she is... Shit..._  
  
Pierre tilted his head at the tension in Pat’s voice.  _Shit, what?_  
  
Pat clenched his jaw.  _Johnny told me of her...and so did my father. She lives with my sister...she is one of the only vampire’s to live willingly with a whole clan of Lycans._  
  
Pierre nodded still watching; Luna was now sitting on the sofa with David, the bassist was attempting to tell her a joke. Shamus was kneeling next to Jeff trying to play his acoustic guitar a look of utter concentration on his young face.  
  
Pat breathed out harshly then added as casually as anything,  _By the way, she’s Johnny’s mother._  
  
Pierre’s head whipped around shock plastered across his face.  _What?_  
  
Pat met his surprised look calmly.  _Johnny’s a Halfling...a cross between a Were and a vamp...Luna’s his mother._  He worked his jaw for a moment deciding wisely not to elaborate on Luna’s lineage. It was not his place; if she wanted to enlighten Pierre then she could do so on her own. He nodded toward the redheaded female.  _Luna...mated a Lycan...for love. But then..._  Pat’s tone hardened.  _She lost her husband...Shadows had him and every other Lycan in California, destroyed._  
  
 _Except for Johnny..._  Pierre ruminated on their conversation just as Luna turned from David and pegged him with a knowing look. He tilted his head toward her smiling faintly. She turned to the bassist speaking softly to him, then she rose and approached Pierre and Pat.  
  
“Hello,” Luna smiled at Pat.  
  
He lowered his camera and stared at her, eyes narrowed ever so little.  _You look nothing like your brother..._  
  
The female took her bottom lip between her teeth and shook her head, her long hair tumbling over her shoulders.  _Thank the Lord for that, Patrick..._  
  
Pierre frowned looking between them sensing that they were conversing in their minds.  
  
He felt a little left out and so he butted in speaking out loud to fill the seeming void between them. “So, you work here, Luna?”  
  
Luna looked at him, lifting one eyebrow. “Yes, Pierre. I do. It is a safe, respectable job for a...woman like me.”  
  
Pierre chortled. “It’s tough in this industry though.”  
  
She shook her head in response. “Only for the bands and the executive. I find it relatively easy. At least...considering who I am.”  
  
“A wolf in sheep’s clothing, eh?”  
  
Luna chuckled. “Nah, a cat in a wolf’s coat.”  
  
Pierre laughed outright, pressing a hand to his chest. “Good one.”  
  
“Well, it is true...we fanged ones are related to the humble house cat.”  
  
Pierre blinked, then quipped softly, “Is that the real reason vamps and Lycans were at war with each other?”  
  
Luna rolled her eyes. “That would be a good excuse...except...you have had dogs in your life, right?”  
  
“Yeah, Lach and I have a little dog...her name’s Delilah. She’s fine with me.” Pierre scratched his jaw. “But, then she is domesticated.”  
  
The female smiled raking slender fingers through her long red hair. “However, Lycans and Vamps...are not so much...”  
  
Pat snorted. “You make us sound like animals.”  
  
Luna grimaced, the expression doing nothing to mar her beauty. “At the basic instinctive level that is what we are, Pat.”  
  
She glanced at Pierre and met his gaze directly. He felt the force of her stare and shivered. Pulling his eyes away from hers he looked back toward the rest of the band. They were all focusing on the youngling who was still playing Jeff’s guitar. He watched them silently. Luna stepped closer to him, nodding toward Shamus.  
  
When she spoke her voice was low enough that it wouldn’t carry any farther than their small huddle. “Shamus is borne of the oldest Were line in the world...”  
  
Pat scowled. “The Cunningham line isn’t that old.”  
  
Luna raised an eyebrow at him. “No? Then perhaps he is really of the Langlois line?”  
  
Pat shook his head. “No. He is not my mother’s son. But then...the Cunningham name is only recent...well as long as we have been in Canada.”  
  
She nodded then rubbed at her arms slowly lowering her voice even more. “No Lycan family goes as far back as the oldest vampire.”  
  
Pierre grimaced. “Who are the oldest vampire families?”  
  
Luna licked her lips and shot the singer a wry look. “The Sullivan clan is the oldest...followed only by the Sanders clan. Both of Celtic descent.”  
  
Pierre swallowed his Adams apple bobbing visibly. “Matt Sanders...of Avenged Sevenfold...” He noticed the female tense slightly at the mention of the master vampire’s name. He narrowed his eyes at her. “You’ve heard of him?”  
  
Pat turned his attention to his camera and began to fiddle with it, keeping one ear on the vampires’ conversation. Luna took her bottom lip between her teeth thoughts passing across her eyes.  
  
Then she nodded softly. “Who hasn’t?” She paused then looked away staring into the distance for a moment.  
  
Pierre waited patiently sensing that she was deep in her thoughts. After several moments she brought her eyes back to his; they were filled with an inexplicable tenderness.  
  
He blinked and tilted his head. “Luna?”  
  
“Matt is my elder brother, Pierre.” Her voice sounded sad, weary even.  
  
Pierre’s eyes widened in shock, but, it was Pat who spoke first, jerking his head away from the camera. “What? But then...Johnny’s his-”  
  
“Nephew. Yes. And, yes...Matt knows this.”  
  
“Does Johnny?”  
  
Luna shook her head in the negative. “No. Matt never told him. And I believe he never will either.” Her bottom lip quivered. “He...spared his life though. Because of that.” She forced a smile then turned to look toward the rest of the band. “Anyway, enough of this...we’re being anti-social...we should go join Shamus and the others.”  
  
Pierre nodded in agreement; Pat just nodded with his eyes before glancing back into the viewfinder of his camera. Luna looked at him for a second then swirled around and headed back to the rest of the group. Pierre hung back a little longer until Pat waved a hand at him to go. With a sigh, he did, leaving Patrick to document another day in the life of Simple Plan.  
  
 _ **Downtown, TO  
  
Noon**_  
  
Johnny wandered aimlessly along the pavement hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans. He had a beanie tugged firmly down over his head in an attempt to disguise his person from the people on the street. With his shoulders hunched and body slouched he knew he would not be readily noticeable. It was important for him to go  _incognito_  since he was trying to find someone without anyone knowing.  
  
Of course, he could have gone Wolf, however then he would have the issue of the local dog catcher on his tail. He had seen one of their trucks cruising through the city and he could not afford to get caught out. Shadows would skin him alive for that. Well, perhaps not, but Johnny was not going to even risk pissing his master off any more than he already had.  
  
When he had arrived back on the A7X bus after having visited Pierre and Pat the master vampire had been waiting for him. And he had been livid. Shadows threatened him with the most horrible death if he did not do as he was told. That meant only leaving the bus if he was looking for Pierre’s mother or the band had some commitment.  
  
Shadows also forced him to reveal Alpha’s identity. Once again Johnny had played him giving the master vampire another alias. He knew though that it would not take long for Shadows to realise he was taking him for a ride. So Johnny had gotten out of his presence as fast as he could with promises he would not return until he had Serena with him. Hence the reason he was putting one foot in front of the other on the cracked pavement of a Toronto street.  
  
With his head down Johnny was able to track the many varied scents of the city. Halting at a crossing, he stiffened slightly, nostrils twitching as he caught hold of a familiar aroma. It was extremely faint almost drowned by the myriad other scents that assaulted the sensitive hairs in his nasal passage. Biting his bottom lip, he swung a swift left and hurried passed a gang of rowdy youths who were huddled around a bus stand.  
  
He would have completely disregarded them if it weren’t for the soft protest that issued from within the circle of young men. A very familiar voice reached his ears. He whipped his head back catching a whiff of that same perfume coming from directly amongst the group of men.  
  
The feminine voice that called out in objection spiked at his heart. “Let me go...please...I have to catch my bus...”  
  
Johnny snarled as he turned toward the youths. They did not notice him as their attention was focused toward the centre of their huddle. One of them snorted and grabbed at a tiny figure that was trying to push passed them. Long black hair caught the sunlight giving off a purple sheen.  
  
 _Serena..._  Johnny hissed then let out a low growl a sound that rumbled deep in his throat. One youth turned his head and saw Johnny standing there. The Were noted vaguely that the youth was much bigger than him, obviously a jock on some high school football team.  
  
However, Johnny knew that he had the upper hand. The one advantage to being a Lycan was that his height did not diminish his strength or his ability to cow anyone regardless of how much bigger than him they were. Of course that only applied to humans. He could not intimidate a Were or Vamp who was larger than him. Because, as it were they were always stronger than he would ever be.  
  
The youth sneered. “Piss off, buddy. This ain’t your business.”  
  
Johnny slowly licked his lips, muscles coiling ready for a fight. “Oh really? I happen to know that woman you’re harassing...so...I suggest getting away from her.”  
  
The youth laughed and stepped toward Johnny cracking his knuckles. “What’re ya gonna do if I don’t, eh?”  
  
Johnny glanced back over his shoulder, scanning the street then he looked toward the group of young men who were still surrounding the female. He felt her mind shift opening slightly, letting him know that she knew he was there.  
  
Then he looked hard at the jock in front of him. “You really don’t want to know, kid. So tell your friends to leave her alone.”  
  
“Kid?” The jock sneered more, narrowing his eyes at the shorter man. “Look at you...you’re not gonna do shit. Look at you, you scrawny piece of shit.”  
  
Those words jolted into Johnny’s brain and triggered a reaction that rarely erupted from the young Were. His eyes went yellow, a real golden glow and then he snarled, a savage sound that sounded like it should have come from the throat of a wild animal. A split second later, he lunged at the youth changing in midair his clothes splitting as his form twisted from bipedal human to four-legged canine.  
  
The youth’s eyes widened in horror and he opened his mouth to scream; the sound never left his mouth as Johnny ripped his throat out with a terrible roar blood spraying all over his fur. The other young men scattered having finally noticed what was going down. They just bolted, terror written all over their faces and stinking up the air around them.  
  
The woman Johnny had just rescued stared after them; eyes narrowed focusing on their minds so as to wipe their memories of the scene they had just witnessed. Then she turned to the Werewolf.  
  
Johnny snarled shaking his head from side to side still holding onto the jock’s neck. His body hung limp as a ragdoll from the large Were’s powerful jaws. It wasn’t until the woman crept close to him that he halted, breathing hard.  
  
Her perfume wafted toward his nostrils and he released the human’s neck and lifted his head toward her. Sherry Blackwood sighed, brushing a hand through her tangled black hair and straightening the short black skirt she was wearing.  
  
“Johnny...Johnny...Johnny...” She crouched down to his level and took his bloodied face in her hands, murmuring close to his muzzle. “What am I to do with you, eh?”  
  
Johnny whined and licked at her face.  
  
Sherry shook her head frowning. “I was fine, you know.”  
  
Johnny growled disapprovingly.  _Didn’t look fine..._  
  
Sherry sighed. “What are you doing here?”  
  
 _Me specifically?_  
  
“Yes.” She stroked the fur between his ears gently.  
  
He rumbled in his chest and nudged his bloodied muzzle against her hands.  _Looking for you...wanted to see you again._  He paused then added,  _wondered if you wanted to meet your son._  
  
Sherry’s eyes widened then she looked around them to see if they had an audience, but other than the youths that had accosted her [who had now gotten as far away as possible] there was no one else around.  
  
Then she looked back at her friend. “But, I thought you said I shouldn’t...”  
  
Johnny grunted and turned from her padding around the jock’s body sniffing at him and pawing at his sides. Then he narrowed his gaze and gave a low yipping sound. The youth’s body vanished as did the pool of blood he had been laying in.  
  
Then the Were settled back on his haunches and peered up at the female vampire.  _The situation has changed, Serena. You need to meet with Pierre. I can’t tell you why...he’ll explain it to you...but you have to come with me._  
  
Sherry swallowed hard and closed her eyes for a moment. “Does Shadows know that you’re looking for me?”  
  
Johnny growled the fur at his throat bristling.  _He sent me. But...he doesn’t know that I’m taking you to meet Pierre._  
  
Sherry wiped a hand over her mouth.  
  
Johnny lifted a paw and rested it against her thigh.  _Are you alright, Serena?_  
  
“Those lads would’ve done no real harm...not like...”  
  
 _I know...but...they were hassling you...and...um...I kinda lost it._  
  
Sherry chuckled. “You’re one wild wolf when crossed, Johnny.”  
  
Johnny lowered his great head licking at his legs.  
  
The woman smiled softly and scratched behind his ears. “Well, if we’re going to do this...I guess we’d better go...”  
  
The Were yipped.  _Can’t take you to Pierre just yet. I have to talk to him first. But, I will take you to the Lycan haven. You’ll be safe there._  
  
Sherry nodded, straightening and smiling down at the large shaggy wolf standing before her. “Lead the way, old friend...”  
  
Johnny yipped once more then turned and trotted down the street, tail held vertical like a flag to mark the way.


	18. Like a virgin

_**Same Day**  
  
Palladium Arena  
  
Before A7X’s show  
  
5 PM_  
  
 _Fuck, Pat...do you realise what Luna said makes me Johnny’s cousin._  
  
Pierre and Pat sat on the stairs leading into the arena watching as the kids began to line up to enter the front doors. They were sharing a bag of apples between them as they talked about the meeting at the radio station.  
  
Pat glanced at his friend and nodded.  _Yeah...pretty weird, eh. And she’s your aunt._  
  
Pierre smirked faintly.  _Bet she’s one of those relatives that you can actually like._  
  
Pat laughed as he took a chunk out of the Granny Smith apple that he clutched in his left hand.  _Yeah.  
  
You sounded surprised about Johnny being Matt’s nephew though. I mean...if you knew that Luna was Johnny’s mother...and obviously you knew that Matt and Luna were siblings..._  
  
Pat snorted.  _It just hadn’t really clicked. Considering the way Shads treats Johnny.  
  
Yeah...what an asshole..._ Pierre wiped a hand against his jeans and glanced toward the long line of kids and spoke out loud this time. “You reckon there are as many fans as we get?”  
  
Pat craned his neck then chuckled. “Look, there’s some kid wearing a Role Model shirt.”  
  
Pierre laughed. “Damn. Hey...maybe we should give Matt a new hoodie...”  
  
“A bigger one, you mean.”  
  
“Exactly.”  
  
“Do we even still have that one he has?”  
  
“Uh...not sure.”  
  
“You could give him yours.”  
  
“No fucking way...I am not giving anything of mine to him...” Pierre’s voice hardened. He was not joking around anymore. Pat shivered a little at his friend’s tone.  
  
The singer repeated sharply, “He’s getting nothing from me.”  
  
Pat held up his hands in defence. “Hey, I was just kidding around.”  
  
Pierre clenched his jaw. “Don’t kid about that.” His voice dropped. “I don’t want to give him anything...in case it gives him some kind of control over me.”  
  
Pat winced slightly thinking silently to himself, he doesn’t need anything from you to have control of you...you’re his son, buddy...and that’s enough for him.  
  
Pierre picked up on his thoughts however and sniffed. “Well, okay...extra leverage.”  
  
Pat opened his mouth to comment when they heard a commotion nearby and then fans screaming out. “OH MY GOD, IT’S M SHADOWS!!!”  
  
Pierre and Pat turned to see Shadows wandering out of the venue a small smirk playing across his lips. He was dressed in a black muscle shirt and cargo pants; flip-flops slapped softly at the concrete as he moved forward.  
  
They watched as he nodded to the fans but continued toward the steps where they were sitting. Some of the fans began to follow but then stopped when they recognised who Shadows was walking toward.  
  
“Hey, what’re you two doing sitting out here?” Shadows cocked an eyebrow at Pierre and Pat.  
  
“Nothing much,” Pat answered, sensing his friend shut down next to him. Obviously, Pierre was trying his hardest not to let the master vampire close and so he would do the good Lycan thing and be the distracter, as it were.  
  
The master vampire folded his arms. “Well, how about you come back to the Avenged dressing room and do nothing there?”  
  
Pat hesitated before answering glancing once again at Pierre. The singer’s face was tight, lips drawn in a thin line. However, he nodded slightly.  
  
Pat looked back up at Shadows. “We’ll come in, in a minute...”  
  
The master vampire smirked. “Better, before you get crushed by the fans.” He nodded down the steps then turned and walked back to the entrance and disappeared from view. Pierre and Pat looked where Shadows had indicated. More kids were crowding the line at the bottom of the stairs.  
  
“Crap...” Pierre shook his head. “Maybe we should take his advice?”  
  
Pat grumbled, “Only so we don’t get stuck out here.”  
  
The singer nodded clapping a hand to his shoulder. “Come on then. I want to go find Chelle anyway...she was walking Delilah inside...”  
  
He stood shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Pat joined him rubbing his hands against his T-shirt. They wandered up the stairs and headed into the arena foyer allowing the sounds of the waiting fans to be shut off as the door clicked shut behind them. Once they were standing in the foyer they scanned the area then headed to the left toward the long corridor that would take them backstage.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Lachelle wandered the hallway behind the main stage, Delilah trotting ahead of her. The small dog halted and sniffed about then gave a tiny yelp and backed up fur bristling slightly. They had come to a door which swung open revealing the muscled Avenged front man. Shadows lifted his gaze as he was arranging a bandana and ball cap on his head.  
  
Lachelle blinked staring at the large male. He was dressed to kill, in the proverbial sense. Black dress pants slung low at his hips, held up by a snakeskin belt; black muscle shirt stretched tight across the taut muscles of his torso. A black leather biker jacket finished off the look making his heavy shoulders stand out.  
  
He smirked catching her look and flashing his teeth at her. “Hello there, sweet cheeks.”  
  
Pierre’s fiancée swallowed hard her hands going clammy. She had no idea why she suddenly felt all hot.  
  
Smoothing her hands against the tight jeans she was wearing, she forced a friendly smile on her lips. “Hey, Matt. You almost ready for the gig?”  
  
Shadows chuckled low sensing her discomfit and feeling his crotch tighten. “Yeah...almost.”  
  
His eyes slowly moved from her face down her slender neck; pausing on the pulse of her jugular then dipping lower to the base of her throat, down to her firm breasts that were pushing at the pink blouse that clung to her upper body.  
  
Lachelle shivered beneath his cool appraisal. “Um...well...break a leg...I’m going to go look for Pierre, you seen him?”  
  
Shadows eyes narrowed slightly. He glanced back at the door he’d just come through. “He’s in there...but hey...how about you and I go for a little walk...just until I have to front.”  
  
“Uh...look. I really should go see Pierre before I take Delilah back to the bus.”  
  
The master vampire seemed not to have noticed the little dog before and looked down at Delilah where she was sitting, watching him. He stared at the black and tan terrier. It barked at him then, much to Lachelle’s surprise, turned and trotted away as if she knew where she was headed.  
  
Lachelle called out, “Delilah...come back here...”  
  
Shadows smirked, “Ah, she knows where she’s going, sweet cheeks.”  
  
She shot a sharp look at him, attempting to mask the apprehension that had begun to creep into her mind. “She’s an inside dog...I can’t just let her go off by herself. I really should go.” She made to walk away.  
  
Shadows moved fast, backing her up against the wall and trapping her between his arms. “What’s your rush, sweet cheeks? I just want to get to know you better.”  
  
Lachelle felt a tingle of fear race down her spine. She had no idea where that had come from, but Shadows was making her uncomfortable. Pressing her hands against his solid chest she tried to push him away. He did not budge even an inch. He was unyielding as a rock wall; he was not going anywhere.  
  
“Matt...really...I should go...”  
  
Shadows’ lips parted revealing his fangs; her eyes widened as they appeared to elongate. Saliva trickled down the deadly curves beading at the sharp points. Lachelle shrank back into the wall, her breath catching in the back of her throat.  
  
He laughed softly, and then caught hold of her arm with one large hand. “Come with me.”  
  
It wasn’t a request this time; his voice was hard, his eyes were almost completely black. Still, she had to resist. One, she was already answered for; and two, she could not stand being pushed around by other people, male or female.  
  
Jerking her arm from his grip she glared at him. “What do you think you’re doing? You don’t tell me what to do. I don’t let men push me around.”  
  
Shadows growled low. Not the sound human men made, but a real animalistic snarl that rumbled in his throat.  
  
He grabbed her arm again tightly and pulled her close, leaning into her face. “Listen good, sweet cheeks. I. Am. A. Vampire. And. You do  _not_  want to fuck with me right now.”  _You will want to fuck me very shortly though..._  That thought ran silently through his mind as a devious smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.  
  
Lachelle tried to pull her arm away; his grip tightened like a vice, fingers biting into her flesh.  
  
“Don’t fight me.” His eyes narrowed as he added roughly, “And, sweet cheeks, screaming is not an option.”  
  
He tightened his hold even more, a clear warning. She winced and went still in his grasp, breathing fast and hoping that someone would walk out of the Avenged dressing room and see what was going on. No one came though and all she could do was wait to see what he would do.  
  
Shadows ran his tongue over his bottom lip then pulled her away from the wall and lead her down the corridor to an empty store room. Pushing the door open, he jerked her inside after him. Releasing her arm and willing the door shut he smirked faintly watching as she backed away from him fear now emanating from her whole body.  
  
He slowly stalked her, licking his lips, but then he halted and just looked at her.  
  
Lachelle stared back at him, frowning slightly, and rubbing her arm where he had grabbed her. “Matt...what are we doing here?” She tried not to let her voice tremble too much.  
  
Shadows just continued to stare at her. She swallowed hard and looked away from him, unable to handle the force of his gaze. It was as if he were mentally stripping her, imagining her naked.  
  
A low chuckle eased its way into her mind; she stiffened and whipped her head back round to stare at the master vampire.  
  
“Did you just laugh at me, Matthew?”  
  
Shadows was in the middle of removing his jacket; he did not pause as he met her questioning gaze. She froze as his eyes locked with hers and found she could not look away. Her heart rate began to increase and she broke out in a cold sweat. He chuckled again the sound caressing her mind like silk rubbing over her skin.  
  
Lachelle trembled and stepped back into the wall; she lifted her hands slightly but then allowed them to drop by her sides as something inside her willed her to watch as Shadows prowled toward her.  
  
The master vampire smirked inwardly, his mind slowly infiltrating the woman’s standing before him. Control was something he had in abundance; he always had control of any situation he ‘found’ himself in. More to the point, he controlled every situation from beginning to end.  
  
Earlier in the day, he had discussed with The Rev several possibilities of controlling his new found son. The most popular plan they had tossed between them was to corrupt Pierre’s sweet fiancée, by seducing her mind and turning her against her intended. Now, here he was putting that very plan into action. And how sweet it was going to be.  
  
Bringing his huge frame to a halt in front of the slender female, he stared down into her frightened eyes, the fear having registered completely. However, with a single thought he silenced any potential protests before they could even surface. Instead he began to draw upon the woman’s natural instincts, the natural desire that a female felt around any being of the opposite gender.  
  
He spoke deep within her psyche drawing her mind into his, marking the desire within.  _You need me right now, female...I am your entire world...no one else...I will make you fly...I will complete you...forget everything else...it is just you and me here..._  
  
He felt her body reacting to his silent suggestions, heating up, and he lifted a hand stroking his fingertips across her smooth cheek. Lachelle’s lips parted slightly in response to his touch, but instead of fighting it she leaned into his hand allowing a soft moan to escape.  
  
Shadows smiled coldly as he felt her mind relax completely, floating in a state of complete surrender. Now he could make his move. Stepping closer, crowding her against the wall, he bent his head and captured her lips in a rough embrace. He felt her stiffen, her hands grasping at his biceps.  
  
He growled low, angling his mouth against hers, attacking her mouth ferociously, possessively. Lachelle’s hands tightened and she groaned as he pushed his tongue into her mouth, almost as if he were raping it.  
  
Shadows pressed closer moving his hips firmly against hers; she moaned as she felt the hard ridge of his erection nudging against her stomach. Keeping his lips locked with hers, and pinning her against the wall with his thighs against hers, he slid both hands to the waist of her jeans and proceeded to tug them open and down off her hips.  
  
Lachelle whimpered into the male’s mouth, knees going weak. If it weren’t for his large body pressing her into the wall she knew she would collapse. He growled softly cupping her crotch in one hand. She did not protest, moaning as she instantly began to juice at his touch.  
  
Pulling back from her mouth, Shadows squeezed her through her panties. “That’s it...get wet for me, sweet cheeks...”  
  
Lachelle shivered becoming wetter by the second. He pulled her panties aside and stroked a finger through the moisture gathering between her legs.  
  
She gasped, bucking her hips against his hand. “Please...”  
  
The master vampire smirked cruelly. “What was that?” He slipped the tip of his finger inside her.  
  
Lachelle tensed, the walls of her pussy clenching around his digit. He licked his lips and pushed it in slowly twisting it as he found her special spot and brushed against it.  
  
“Oh, God...” Her hips jerked more.  
  
Shadows peered at her face. Her eyes were glazed over, a sheen of erotic pleasure. He snarled, baring his fangs, they were so long now that he would not be able to close his mouth to conceal them.  
  
The fresh aroma of human blood flooded his senses and he had to fight the urge to bite her. He did not want to leave obvious marks on her body. No, this was merely a psychological show of his power. He wanted the female to enjoy this in such a way that she would end up inadvertently betraying his son and hence driving him to his true nature.  
  
He twisted his finger inside Lachelle again. She cried out as a wave of pleasure rode through her body. Shadows stared into her face as he began to move his finger slowly, in, out savouring the feel of her walls clenching on him. She shuddered moaning softly, fingers fluttering against his arms.  
  
He licked his lips inserting a second finger and pushing them deeper. He frowned for a second as his fingertips hit a barrier deep inside. Narrowing his gaze he pushed slightly. Lachelle whimpered shifting back involuntarily.  
  
 _Holy damn...a virgin..._  Shadows snarled and pulled his fingers from her pussy.  
  
She gasped and bucked toward him. “No...”  
  
The master vampire cocked an eyebrow. “What’s that? Like that, did you?” He smiled faintly, unbuckling his belt and yanking his pants down. “Don’t worry, sweet cheeks. I’m not done with you, yet.”  
  
Unleashing his raging hard-on, he gripped it in his fist and pumped it until it was solid as a steel rod. Then he wrapped his hands around her waist and leaned in running his fangs lightly along the line of her throat. Lachelle trembled, clutching at his biceps again, hanging on.  
  
He growled low in approval and nuzzled into her neck. “Wrap your legs around me, sweet cheeks...”  
  
She did as he instructed, holding on tight. He scratched at her neck with the points of his fangs as he guided the head of his cock to the glistening folds of her pussy. He held for a moment feeling her body reacting to the closeness of his thickened member. She moaned, need evident in the soft cry.  
  
Shadows smirked against her neck and then plunged his whole length into her tight hole breaking through her maidenhead causing her to cry out. Lachelle clutched at his shoulders, muscled walls clamping tightly upon the invasion into her most private part of her body.  
  
Holding still he gave her a moment to adjust to his massive girth. At the same time, whilst holding her up against the wall with one arm, he slid his other hand down between their bodies and found the hooded clitoris with his thumb and began to rub it slowly. She moaned leaning her head back, revealing her long pale throat.  
  
The master vampire groaned and began to move inside her body, angling his hard length against her spot revelling in the awesome friction that occurred between their joined bodies. It was amazingly hot; he grunted as he pumped in and out, rubbing her clit firmly in time with his thrusts. Lachelle moved with his motions, clenching in time as well. She was clearly enjoying herself, exactly what he was aiming for.  
  
Shadows moved harder, brushing against her spot, circling his thumb roughly on her clit. Her walls tightened hard around his cock. He growled and increased the pace surging inside her, moving his hips tight against hers. She leaned her head back; long blonde hair falling back, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in a silent cry of ecstasy.  
  
He shifted his body, moving harder, rubbing his thumb continuously against her hardened nub of flesh. She whimpered clenching rapidly, the walls of her pussy contracting around his cock. He felt his balls tighten, but he held tight control of his pleasure wanting her to orgasm before he did.  
  
Lachelle whimpered, clutching tighter at his shoulders. “God...please...so...so...close...”  
  
Shadows rumbled in his throat and moved faster to make her come, his hard length throbbing against the tight walls of her pussy, pressing against her spot, just as he pinched her clit between his thumb and index finger.  
  
Lachelle tensed around him, then cried out, shuddering as she released. “ _Oh...God_...”  
  
The master vampire pulled his lips back from his fangs and snarled as he began pumping roughly in and out of her finally releasing his own orgasm into her body. She moaned, slumping against his hard body, head lolling against his shoulder, hands only just hanging onto his arms. He held her against his body, smirking faintly as he rubbed a hand lightly at the small of her back.  
  
Lachelle trembled and shifted so her chin rested against his left shoulder. He continued to run his hand gently up and down her back, and then in soothing circles. As they stood there his highly sensitive ears heard footsteps moving along the corridor and halting outside the door. Licking his lips and holding her closer, he dropped his hand between her legs and rubbed at her clit once more.  
  
The blonde gasped and squeezed her eyes shut, moaning out at the pleasure that shot through her body. Shadows chuckled low, nuzzling into her neck murmuring softly as he kept one ear on the person outside the storeroom.  
  
“Hello?” The door creaked open and then there was a sharp intake of breath. “What the fuck?”  
  
Shadows tightened his hold around Lachelle’s waist, feeling her react to the voice at the doorway.  _You are mine right now...do not respond to him..._  He squeezed her clit firmly forcing another wave of erotic pleasure through her body. She cried out in ecstasy rocking against his body and calling out his name.  
  
He smirked then turned his head to nail the person behind him with a triumphant sneer.  _Hello, Pierre..._  
  
Pierre stood in the doorway a dawning sense of utter betrayal forming in his mind at the scene before him. He grabbed hold of the doorframe staring in shock at the look of absolute unadulterated bliss on his fiancée’s face. Then he met Shadows hot stare and felt a shot of cold fury jerk through his heart.  
  
Yet, instead of storming into the store room and tearing his girlfriend from the master vampire’s arms, he swung around and vanished from the arena in a frigid blast of air.  
  
The last thing he heard as he disappeared was one last moan of pleasure from Lachelle and Shadows’ deep husky voice whispering erotic promises into her ear.


	19. From underneath the Devil's cross

_**Same Night  
  
Backstage at A7X Concert  
  
6 PM**_  
  
“Shads? You seen Pierre?” Chuck Comeau stood in the doorway of the Avenged dressing room, having just arrived at the stadium.  
  
Shadows was leaning over a bag rummaging for a spare water bottle.  
  
He glanced up at the Simple Plan drummer a slight frown on his face. “Nah. He was here earlier...but he left half an hour ago.” Straightening, water bottle clutched in his left hand, he scratched at his cheek. “Maybe he went to grab a bite to eat.”  
  
Synyster who was sitting in the corner with his guitar propped in his lap, absently plucking at some chords, looked up. “He went looking for his fiancée.”  
  
Shadows lip curled slightly.  
  
Chuck didn’t see because he had turned toward the guitarist to nod to him. “Thanks. I’ll go find Chelle. Guess he’ll be wherever she is then.”  
  
 _Heh...not likely..._  Shadows remained silent watching as the drummer left the room.  
  
Synyster noticed and cocked an eyebrow, speaking softly. “What’re you thinking, master?”  
  
The master vampire chuckled harshly, cold triumph evident in his deep voice. “Bouvier is nowhere near his female.”  
  
“Oh, really? And why would that be?” Synyster cocked his head to the side.  
  
Shadows top lip peeled back from his fangs. “I decided to fuck with her.”  
  
The other male’s eyes widened. Then he scowled. “Damn...so that’s why it got cold all of a sudden...”  
  
The master vampire tensed glancing at his lieutenant. “You felt it too?”  
  
“Uhuh...he’s got a temper that son of yours...wonder where he’s gone to unleash it?” Synyster set aside his guitar and stood up, arching his back muscles with a low growl.  
  
Shadows shrugged nonchalantly. “Not my problem.”  
  
“No?” Synyster smirked. “What was she like?”  
  
“Fuckin’ hot.”  
  
“Who’s fuckin’ hot?” Zacky wandered out of the bathroom pulling his favourite Vengeance University muscle shirt on over his head.  
  
Shadows glanced at the green-eyed vampire. “Pierre’s... _ex_ -fiancée.”  
  
The younger vampire cocked a questioning eyebrow. “How d’ya figure that?”  
  
Shadows just smirked and readjusted his leather jacket.  
  
Zacky glowered sharply at the master vampire. “Shads, what do you mean his  _ex_?”  
  
“Soon to be,” the master vampire mumbled in response. “If everything goes according to Rev and my plan.”  
  
Green eyes narrowed, Zacky grunted. “And what’s that? I mean seriously...why fuck with Pierre’s fiancée?”  
  
Shadows glared at the younger vampire. “That’s really not your business. Just you worry about yourself.”  
  
Zacky snorted. “Right, of course. Whatever you say.” He grabbed his guitar and slung the strap over his head. “I’m going backstage.” He paused. “By the way...anyone seen Johnny? He wasn’t at sound check.”  
  
Synyster’s gaze hardened. “That dog is never around when he’s supposed to be.”  
  
Shadows rubbed at his face. “Let me worry about Johnny. You two had better hit the stage. The Rev’s already out there.”  
  
The two guitarists glanced at each sensing their master’s preoccupation. So, they just nodded to him and left. As soon as they had gone, Shadows gave a low snarl and, closing his eyes, vanished to where his Were was, tracking him down with single-minded purpose.  
  
 _ **Downtown**_  
  
Johnny dashed across the street claws clattering across the bitumen as he wound his way through the throngs of people walking to the public transport on their way home. He had left Pierre’s mother at Alpha’s private abode. His younger daughter, the daughter who had not married into his clan, was there and had promised to keep Serena company.  
  
Johnny would have stayed except a sudden burning smell hit his sensitive nostrils. Not the burning of a fire in the literal sense, but an ice-cold flare that caused his senses to tingle in warning. A premonition came to him and he knew he had to get to the source before something terrible happened.  
  
Air rushed passed as he sniffed roughly at the surrounding scents. Pausing at the end of the night club strip he growled and dropped his nose to the pavement. He trotted along, sniffing at the scents wafting to his nostrils, when he caught the familiar aroma of steel and leather combined. His head jerked up and he froze.  
  
Standing directly in his pathway was the master vampire, and to say he did not look happy would be the understatement of the year.  
  
Fury radiated from Shadows whole body, frosty and menacing. From the shades covering his eyes, to the leather jacket hanging off his massive shoulders, to the black leather shoes, he was a towering figure, someone not to be messed with. The Were shrank back from him, tail tucking between his legs.  
  
Shadows strode forward and seized Johnny by the scruff of his neck; holding on tight he pulled a length of rope from his belt and doubled it over before looping it around his neck like a leash. Several people walking passed looked over but all they did was nod and comment about keeping his dog on a lead.  
  
Shadows smirked apologetically then glowered down at the Were. “Come on, mutt. We’re going back.”  
  
Johnny shuddered and jerked back, whining softly as he looked in the direction he had been heading.  
  
“No, Johnny.” The vampire growled low. “Not that way.”  
  
The Werewolf whined louder.  _Something’s going to happen...gotta stop it..._  
  
Shadows tugged at the leash; Johnny yipped.  _Pierre...Pierre’s going to-_  
  
The master vampire silenced him with a look.  _Whatever Pierre’s going to do is none of your concern, Johnny...now move. You’re in enough shit as is...and I’ll be hard pressed to keep Syn off your back when we get back to the arena._  
  
He turned to pull Johnny back down the street when he suddenly spotted Pierre striding across the street directly toward where they were standing. He tensed and pulled the Were back into the crowd of people milling past them.  
  
Crouching down and pressing a warning hand to Johnny’s muzzle, Shadows watched as Pierre halted at the kerb where they had just been standing. He scanned the crowd for a moment, dragging tense fingers through his shaggy dark hair. Then he swung a sharp left and stalked along the pavement toward the bars that lined the furthest end of the street.  
  
Moments after he’d disappeared, Lachelle came from the same direction, the little black and tan dog cradled in her arms.  
  
Shadows allowed a sibilant hiss to escape his lips. Johnny whined in question.  
  
The master vampire hooked strong fingers into the Were’s scruff and shook him gently.  _We have half an hour before we have to be back at the arena...so...we’ll follow the female and see what she’s up to._  
  
Johnny whimpered.  _You did something to her..._  The young Were knew his master well enough to know he had somehow interfered with Pierre’s fiancée.  
  
Shadows shrugged the observation aside. He did not need to answer; he never explained himself to anyone. Standing and making sure he had a firm grasp on the makeshift leash, he followed Lachelle from a distance, waiting to see what would go down.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Smoke drifted up from a cigarette resting in an ashtray at Pierre’s left elbow. He sat with his head down, dark eyes narrowed into frosty slits as he watched his fiancée. Lachelle stood at the doorway of the bar he had entered head swivelling from the left to the right, obviously trying to find him. He gave a low growl, cold fury like a fist in his stomach.  
  
It was almost as if she had heard him; her eyes connecting with his. From where he was seated he could see her lips part slightly then she began to walk toward him. He remained coolly focused as she approached, shifting his weight against his left elbow and lifting the cigarette from the ashtray putting it to his lips and inhaling harshly.  
  
“Are you smoking?” Lachelle’s tone was incredulous.  
  
He smirked icily. “What does it look like to you, slut?”  
  
He watched her flinch at his choice of words. He was pissed off and he was not inclined to be nice about it. He had no real idea where the attitude had come from but it was causing his veins to flow with ice. Well, actually he did know where it came from.  
  
Seeing one’s fiancée going hot to trot with another man would definitely do it. The fact that he was a hot blooded male vampire made the emotion a whole lot stronger. The fact that the other man she had been fucking had also been a hot blooded male vampire made it a bloody crime. What she had done, that is, not his attitude.  
  
Holding the smoke between his thumb and index finger, he lifted an eyebrow at his fiancée.  
  
She bit her bottom lip; Pierre’s eyes narrowed at the motion. “What do you want?”  
  
Lachelle trembled. “Pierre...I...” She shook her head. “I...um...I’m going back home...”  
  
“Whatever.” He turned away from her stubbing the cigarette out in the ashtray.  
  
Lachelle grimaced. “Why are you doing that?”  
  
Pierre glanced sharply at her. “Doing what?”  
  
“Smoking...God...you know Jay’s cancer-”  
  
“Shut up, you don’t get to say anything to me about my brother.” He cut her off gruffly. He ground the cigarette butt into the tray. “Anyway, his cancer was not smoking related.” Pierre’s words were clipped, hard. He added silently in his mind,  _and I’m a vampire, so I can’t get cancer..._  
  
He looked away staring into the sparse group of people scattered around the bar. It was too early for the place to be busy just yet. Still, he scanned the place thoroughly his gaze finally settling upon a slight woman right at the back. She had long blonde hair, just like his fiancée’s.  
  
Lachelle followed his gaze then looked at him. “What are you doing here?”  
  
Pierre glowered at her. “I’ll tell you that, if you tell me why you were fucking Shadows.”  
  
Lachelle gulped back a sharp retort wondering for a moment how he had known then remembered vaguely that someone had seen them in the storeroom. Shifting on her feet and glancing back toward the door [she had left Delilah tied up outside], she cleared her throat nervously, wringing her hands in front of her.  
  
“Pierre he...” Lachelle paused; she had been about to say that Shadows had forced her, but that wasn’t right. Was it? Confusion passed across her face.  
  
Pierre cocked an eyebrow. “He what, Lachelle?”  
  
She shook her head uncertainty clouding her eyes. “Matt was just...” Her mouth went dry and she rubbed at her eyes. “Damn it, Pierre.”  
  
“Tell me about it, sweetheart.” Pierre’s voice was cold. He was angry and Lachelle could feel it, but she didn’t really know how to respond to it.  
  
Pierre had no such issues though and he shifted to face her fully. “Give me your hand.” His face was like stone.  
  
She blinked at him. “Pardon?”  
  
“You heard me.”  
  
Lachelle swallowed hard and held out her right hand.  
  
Pierre’s lip curled, fang flashing quickly. “The other one, sweetie.”  
  
Her eyes widened realising what he was getting at. “Pierre...”  
  
“Your hand, Lachelle.” He was implacable.  
  
Lachelle chewed on her tongue but did as he asked, holding out her left hand. Pierre took hold of it and gently wriggled the ring off her finger, tucking it away in the pocket of his jeans. Then he met her gaze steadily. She trembled and looked at their joined hands. She yanked it away and rubbed it against her jeans.  
  
Pierre watched her then grunted, turning away. “Go home, Lachelle. Just go.” There was no emotion on his face now; no inflection in his voice.  
  
All the anger seemed to have been sucked away. He was completely blank, devoid of humanity. Not that that was surprising, he wasn’t human after all. Still it shook Lachelle to the core and she just wanted to cry. But instead, she turned and walked out of the bar without looking back.  
  
Pierre didn’t watch her leave. His gaze was now focused on the petite blonde who had caught his eye moments earlier. Studying her from where he perched he felt his anger blooming once again, enveloping all his senses. Then another sensation, just as intense, struck through him roughly, and his fangs began to itch. At that exact same instant, he felt his cock hardening in his pants. He was aroused and he had no idea what that was about.  
  
His fangs began to throb softly and a hint of pure honey wafted toward him, from the blonde female no less. Rising to his feet, Pierre padded across the linoleum toward the woman.  
  
She sat at a table alone drinking from a tall glass of Midori and lemonade; Pierre could smell what she was drinking. The honey aroma intensified as he got closer to her, it was tantalising, pure, sweet...and a mix of fresh roses floated to his nostrils. He frowned at that realising in a split second that the honey was not her personal fragrance but the smell of her sex.  
  
His nostrils wrinkled as he also smelt the alcohol that permeated her whole aura. She had obviously had quite a few drinks before then. He flickered a tongue against his fangs and stepped into the woman’s line of sight. She started slightly blinking slowly at him.  
  
He smiled, a close-lipped expression, and slid into the seat opposite hers. “Hello there, mind if I join you here?”  
  
The woman blinked then smiled faintly, taking the straw in her drink and sipping from it. Pierre growled in the back of his throat, the woman’s rose-tinged lips sucking softly at the straw.  
  
She pulled her head back and tilted her head at him. “Did you just growl?”  
  
Pierre chuckled lightly. “Maybe.”  
  
The woman giggled. “I like that.” She licked her lips slowly, sensuously, drops of fluid wiped away by soft pink muscle.  
  
Pierre felt his arousal punch uncomfortably at his fly. His fangs began to tingle. He registered the sensation as a warning sign. He needed to feed. Staring at the woman seated in front of him, a mixture of honey and roses drifting into his nostrils, his anger still roiling inside him, he knew exactly what he was going to do.  
  
Tilting his head arranging his face into the most beguiling expression he could manage, he smiled at the woman, sniffing slightly. “You been here long,  _cherie_?”  
  
The woman sucked at her drink again realising that it was finished, the ice clinking around in the bottom. “Uhuh...yeah...been...awhile...had...a few of these...” Her speech was delicately slurred. She was delightfully intoxicated.  
  
Pierre smirked inwardly. “Need someone to walk you out?”  
  
The woman’s eyes met his; they were light hazel, but slightly clouded from the alcohol. He smiled more, one eyebrow lifted. The woman coughed smearing a hand across her face, looking as if she only just realised how much the alcohol had affected her.  
  
“Uh...maybe...know anybody, mister?”  
  
Pierre wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Well, I was thinking of heading back to my hotel...so, I could walk you out?”  
  
The woman giggled swaying slightly on her seat, long blonde hair falling into her face. “That would be sweet of you...woo...almost fell off my chair...” She giggled more.  
  
Pierre chuckled low and stood up moving to stand by her chair. He held a hand out to the woman; she stared at it for a long moment as if she had no idea what it was, but then she placed her palm in his larger one.  
  
It was as if an electric shock hit the vampire; a surge of energy rushed to his groin and a single word echoed in his mind.  _Virgin._  
  
Pierre’s senses sharpened instantly and he knew he had to get the woman out of the bar. Pulling the woman close to his side, she did not protest, and so he easily manoeuvred her from the bar and out onto the street. She kept giggling as he hustled her along the pavement, scanning the street until he found what he was looking for.  
  
Glancing once behind him, Pierre jerked the woman down a dark alleyway to the left of where they were standing.  
  
The blonde gasped. “Wha...?”  
  
Pierre pulled her behind a large yellow dumpster and pushed her against the brick wall of the building, holding her easily. She stared up at him confusion written across her pretty face. He stared down at her conscious that his eyes were now glowing, seeing the red reflecting in her wide eyes.  
  
He could see her inebriated mind working slowly as it eventually dawned on her that she was now in deep shit. A shot of fear spiked in her scent tickling at Pierre’s senses.  
  
He smirked cruelly, baring his fangs as they elongated. He saw shock deepen in her eyes.  
  
Then he leaned in close putting his mouth next to her left ear speaking in a deadly purr. “Didn’t your mother teach you not to trust strange men?”  
  
Then before she could respond he grabbed her long hair, twisting her head to the side, exposing her slender throat to him. He braced his body before hers then with a single focused strike, sank his fangs into her jugular.  
  
The blood hit his tastebuds in a savage burst of flavour. He groaned sucking ferociously at her neck. At the same time, he fumbled with the buckle of his belt with one hand, whilst holding her in place with his other locked in her long hair. His cock was fit to burst and he needed to get inside the woman before he exploded.  
  
The scent of her terror and her virginal sex mingled in Pierre’s nostril’s pushing him to drink harder. He snarled as he yanked the fly down on his jeans and his erection popped out of its confines. Then he shifted, pressing his mouth tighter to the wound on the woman’s neck feeling her writhe frantically against his body. He forced the hand not holding her between her legs and up under the skirt she was wearing. He grabbed the cotton panties that obstructed his path to her sex and ripped them away.  
  
The woman groaned hands fluttering weakly at his chest, in a useless attempt to push him away. He bit deeper, growling like an animal, as he guided his throbbing member up between her legs and pushed into her tight body. She tensed on him a sharp cry of pain and protest escaping her. He growled drinking more, the taste of her blood sparking his senses and strengthening the power that surged through his veins.  
  
Then he pushed his hips forward relentlessly until the head of his cock pressed against a spongy barrier. He chuckled against her neck, pulling her hair tighter, the blood running thick down his throat.  
  
 _Virgin..._  
  
Myriad emotions rolled over his mind and then he broke through and sank all the way into her virgin body. He grunted and pumped into her roughly, his lips still attached to her neck. The woman continued to fight feebly in his grip soft whimpers the only sound she made. Eventually even those soft cries dwindled away as she went limp between Pierre’s body and the wall.  
  
Pierre felt, rather than saw, the life fleeing from the woman’s body and he smirked as he released into her body. Then, pulling his head away from her neck, he took a deep satisfied breath. Withdrawing he let the blonde’s drained body fall to the ground. Stepping away, he tucked his cock back into his jeans, zipping and buckling up.  
  
Then he stretched slowly, muscles flexing, tension easing, strength and energy pouring through his whole body from the blood he had just fed upon. Licking at his fangs and lips, he inhaled, the heady scent of virginal blood still lingering on the woman’s body. Smiling faintly, he felt the anger from earlier dissipate.  
  
Then shaking his hair and straightening his clothes, he took a deep breath before closing his eyes and vanishing from the alley secure in the knowledge that he was completely satiated. And, with the thought that Shadows had been right...  
  
Virgin blood was something truly to be desired...


	20. Full Moon's Curse

_**Same Night**  
  
Palladium Stadium  
  
A7X Gig  
  
9 PM_  
  
Moonlight shone down on the alley that lead to the tour bus lot at the back of the arena. A lone figure paced across the asphalt, low to the ground, casting a deep black shadow. A large powerful wolf paced restlessly back and forth across the lot.  
  
It halted for a moment then moved forward, ears twitching slowly. Then it padded forward several feet, dropping its head to the ground and sniffing.  
  
A low growl escaped its jaw permeating thickly into the air.  
  
Then another figure appeared by its side and a deep voice spoke. “Pat? What the hell are you doing?”  
  
The Werewolf lifted his head and sniffed at the other figure.  _I might ask the same of you, Pierre...you smell of...human blood..._  Pat’s mind flickered anxiously as he sensed an unfamiliar scent emanating from the vampire’s pores.  
  
Pierre’s lip lifted slightly, fangs gleaming in the moonlight. “I needed to feed.”  
  
 _Really...?_  Pat’s tone was suspicious as if he didn’t believe his friend.  _You could’ve fed from me._  
  
Pierre shrugged and looked toward the back entrance of the stadium. “You going in?”  
  
 _Oh sure, and they’re gonna let a fucking wolf into the arena._  
  
The vampire frowned glancing down at him. “Change back.”  
  
Pat shook his head and rested back on his haunches, tongue lolling.  _Can’t. It’s full moon._  
  
Pierre started and stared down at him. “What?”  
  
Pat growled low.  _The Curse, Pierre...the Curse..._  He turned in a circle flagging his tail roughly.  
  
Pierre blinked, rubbing at his eyes. “Jesus...I thought...when you said...I mean...”  
  
Pat snarled softly.  _You thought I was referring to my half-brother, Shamus, right?_  
  
“Yeh.” Pierre glanced to the backstage entrance once more. “Look, I’m going inside. You’ll be right out here?”  
  
The Were yipped.  _I’ll be right, Pierre...I have been for the last 200 years..._  There was a hint of sadness in Pat’s tone, yet at the same time he was resigned to his place in life. He had no real complaints.  
  
Pierre nodded then turned and stalked away across the parking lot.  
  
The Werewolf watched him go, anxiety shining in his yellow eyes. That whiff of human blood that he had caught coming from Pierre’s body, it bothered him. Something was not right. And he meant to find out exactly what that was.  
  
* * * * *  
  
“Pierre!” Chuck craned his neck to the side just as he saw his friend pushing through the crowd to get to them.  
  
They were all standing in a cordoned off area close to the stage, where they would have a great view of Avenged when they performed.  
  
Pierre lifted a hand and grinned faintly. “Have I missed much, Chuck?”  
  
“Nah...Jason Berry just came on to say they were experiencing some difficulties with the sound...so it might be another ten minutes.”  
  
Pierre nodded and glanced toward the stage. The lights were up and he glanced at the equipment set up. The Rev’s drum kit was on a raised platform and behind that was a large black banner with the Deathbat printed in white across it.  
  
He stared at the image thinking for the first time how appropriate it was for a gang of vampires. Not that vampires  _actually_  transformed into bats; that was just another human created myth. However the Avenged crew capitalised on the image. It was how they wanted to be recognised.  
  
He moved his gaze away from the banner and allowed it to drift to the side of the stage. Squinting he caught a flash of movement. He tensed, narrowing his eyes even more, focusing on the motion. Hovering just within the cover of the shadows Pierre could just make out the bulky frame of the master vampire. Shadows was waiting to come on stage.  
  
Even from where he stood, Pierre felt a surge of power leave the larger male’s body. He was pumped, energy flowing through his blood. Pierre growled low feeling his own blood surging through his veins, and then he caught a whiff of the most tantalising aroma somewhere to his left. He whipped his head away from the stage, top lip peeling back a little from his fangs.  
  
As he turned toward the scent a deep, raspy voice filled his mind.  _Lose the teeth, Bouvier...you don’t want to do that in public..._  
  
Pierre grunted, concealing his fangs and looked back toward the stage. Just as he did the girls at the front of the mosh started screaming. Of course he could see exactly what the cause of their cries was.  
  
M Shadows had stalked out onto the centre of the stage. The towering male smiled down at the crowd. He was clothed in long black pants, a tight black muscle shirt and a black leather jacket.  
  
Pierre glowered dangerously. They were the exact same clothes the vampire had been wearing when he’d been fucking...  
  
 _No...don’t think about her..._  Pierre abruptly forced that thought from his mind and stared hard at Shadows.  
  
The master vampire’s head turned slightly and it was as if he felt Pierre’s gaze on him, because those dark shades locked instantly on Pierre’s stare.  _What’re you looking at, Pierre Charles Bouvier?_  
  
Pierre lifted his chin, setting his jaw, but he would not give Shadows the satisfaction of an answer.  
  
The master vampire’s lip curled slightly.  _You know...I did you a favour, Bouvier...Lachelle was a virgin...imagine if you had lost your cool with her instead of that other bitch in the bar..._  
  
Pierre stiffened, pupils dilating. Shadows had seen him, but...  _What were you doing following me, Shads?_  
  
Shadows just smirked then turned toward the back of the stage just as a technician came on to let him know that the sound board had been fixed and they were good to go. The master vampire nodded and headed backstage once more, shooting one last look toward Pierre before he disappeared and the lights went down, signalling that the concert was about to begin.  
  
* * * * *  
  
 _“Caught up in this madness too blind to see  
Woke animal feelings in me  
Took over my sense and I lost control  
I'll taste your blood tonight  
  
You know I make you wanna scream  
You know I make you wanna run from me baby  
But know it's too late you've wasted all your time...”_  
  
Shadows moved across the stage with an energy that was edged with danger and menace. The lyrics of the song that he was snarling [Pierre wouldn’t call it singing] seared its way into Pierre’s mind. Considering what had just passed, he found the song was bitterly appropriate.  
  
Shaking his head, he pushed closer to the stage, the bass beats pounding in his ears, causing his blood to pump savagely around his body. The scent he had picked up earlier filled his nostrils as he pressed up close against the barrier. Tantalising and pure it permeated all of his senses, impelling him to search it out.  
  
He licked his lips and braced his palms against the barrier squeezing tensely. Shadows was right about one thing, losing control of his senses in public really was not such a great idea. So, he was going to have to force his mind off the myriad scents floating around the arena, tempting as they were.  
  
Turning his gaze to the left of the stage, he focused his attention on the diminutive bassist. Johnny was staring out at the crowd a smirk on his face, but Pierre noticed it didn’t quite reach the Were’s eyes. Something was off. He watched him closely and as the music pounded across the arena he saw Johnny’s enthusiasm waver several times throughout the song.  
  
As he observed him, Pierre could see the bassist casting nervous glances toward Shadows who remained at the front of the stage. The master vampire owned the crowd; he had complete and utter control over them. His aviator covered eyes seemed to glow as he roared out to the kids.  
  
Halfway through the song, Shadows had discarded his leather jacket, the muscles in his upper body now on show. He held his tattooed arms up in the air, inviting the kids to scream. Pierre shivered and looked toward Johnny again and got the distinct impression that the Were was absolutely shit scared up there. Something was definitely going on between him and the master vampire.  
  
He shook his head hard.  _Not your biz, Bouvier...keep out of it...not your problem._  
  
He pushed back from the barrier that same enticing smell assaulting his nostrils. Groaning he stumbled backwards straight into Seb who had been coming up behind him.  
  
“Whoa...Pierre...careful there.”  
  
Pierre turned his head slightly and forced an apologetic smile on his lips. “Oh, hey...sorry...didn’t see you there.”  
  
Seb clapped a hand to his shoulder. “No problem.” He nodded to the stage. “Syn’s a bloody genius, isn’t he?”  
  
Pierre followed his gaze toward the band’s lead guitarist. He hadn’t really seen much of Synyster Gates. The fedora wearing vampire had kept his distance. There was something sinister about him.  
  
Pierre snorted silently to himself.  _Goes with the name..._  He shrugged. “He’s not bad.”  
  
“Not bad?” Jeff’s voice drifted from behind him as the bald guitarist stepped close. “He’s fucking crazy...those solos of his...”  
  
Pierre shrugged again; he couldn’t allow himself to admit that he thought anything of any of the Avenged crew. They were essentially bad news to him. He knew very little about them so he couldn’t trust them, except for Johnny of course. But then again, even he wasn’t entirely trustworthy; he was under Shadows’ control.  
  
The Simple Plan singer ran long fingers through his hair and moved further back into the crowd away from his fellow band members. They didn’t appear to notice, their attention fixed upon the stage.  
  
Licking his lips, Pierre turned his head allowing that sweet tantalising aroma to fill his nostrils once more. Moving back even more he didn’t see Chuck standing to his left watching him with a curious expression on his face. Rolling his head on his shoulder and parting his lips slightly, Pierre drew in a deep breath the scents swirling in his head, then without bothering to look around he vanished from the spot he was standing.  
  
Chuck’s eyes widened and he stepped toward where his friend had been standing, but the crowd surged and the space was filled by a gaggle of fan girls. The drummer shook his head and rubbed at his eyes deciding he must have been imagining things. There was no way his friend had just vanished into thin air; Pierre must have just been swallowed by the crowd.  
  
Shaking his head, Chuck pushed back toward where the others were standing and let his eyes wander to the raised platform where Jimmy was attacking his drums with drive and power. Now there was a drummer who knew exactly what he was about. Chuck sighed pushing thoughts of what he had just seen from his mind and concentrating on the performance going on in front of him.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Pierre appeared in the same alleyway he’d been in earlier and tilted his head, lips peeling back from his fangs. The scent of the woman he had drained still permeated the area and teased at the hairs in his nostrils. He snarled softly and slid close to the wall and peeked along the alleyway.  
  
He saw shadows hovering by the dumpster. One of them flashed on a torch and trained it on the woman’s body. Pierre’s eyes narrowed seeing in the reflection of the light that the shadow was a police officer, one of Toronto’s finest.  
  
He drew back close to the wall, pressing his back up against the slimy brick wall. Propping a foot up against the wall, he waited in silence as the two officers mumbled to each other over the woman’s body. More voices joined them and Pierre growled low; he wasn’t sticking around to see what they did with the body and so he dematerialised reappearing further along the street.  
  
Stepping out onto the footpath and scanning the street, he caught a sweet scent. Smirking, he recognised the aroma. It was the same that had come from his first victim.  
  
Leaning his head back, drawing the scent into his lungs he sighed deeply.  _Sweet honey...sweet virgin..._  
  
Pierre traced the tips of his fangs with his tongue and turned his head toward the scent and followed it down the street. As he went he did not notice two shadows materialising behind him and trailing him from a careful distance.  
  
He crossed the street focused on the wafting fragrance that was beckoning him onward; the two shadows darted after him keeping close. Then as he paused before the open door of a bar they vanished leaving him alone once more. Not for an instant did he feel their presence and he definitely did not sense them leaving him.  
  
Hissing lightly Pierre stepped into the bar, scanning the space until his eyes fell upon the source of the perfume he had been following. His lip curled into a cruel sneer as he narrowed his gaze on a diminutive dark haired woman standing against the wall along the right hand side of the bar.  
  
She stood with her profile thrown in casual relief, a tall cocktail glass clutched close to her breasts. Licking his lips he moved to the bar, keeping one eye on the woman as he ordered two drinks, a beer for himself, and another cocktail for the woman.  
  
As the bartender poured the drinks Pierre turned slightly to observe the woman. She was slowly brushing fingertips across the hollow of her throat, wiping away some sweat.  
  
Pierre growled low, the sound of human blood rushing through hollow vessels reaching his ears. The beating of hearts caused his own blood to surge and hunger began to gnaw at his senses, his fangs tingling.  
  
“Here ya go.” Pierre turned his head as the bartender pushed two glasses toward him. He took hold of the beer and downed half of it in one gulp, growling softly. Then, taking hold of the cocktail as well, he stood and made his way toward the woman.  
  
Locking his gaze on her slight figure he chuckled low. Her head came up, bright blue eyes meeting his hot stare. Allowing his lip to curl slightly, he stopped in front of her and placed the drink down on the table before her. She blinked at it.  
  
He grinned more, sliding into the only other seat at the table, leaning forward and speaking softly. “Saw you by your lonesome...thought I’d buy you a drink...”  
  
The woman just stared at him, pupils dilating and he shivered in anticipation as the sweet scent of her virginity filled his nostrils.  
  
Oh...he was so ready to take what he needed from her. The night was looking way better than before. Pierre Bouvier, son of the master vampire, was more than ready for whatever the next few hours would bring him.  
  
 _More_  than ready.


	21. Don't acknowledge right, just dwell on wrong

_**Friday May 23rd, 2008  
  
Lycan Sanctuary  
  
TO  
  
2 AM**_  
  
The scratching of blunt claws echoed down a dark alley way leading to a heavy metal door. Three people sat inside a dim hideout through that door; they sat tensely waiting to see what the sound would bring. Snuffling at the door and then a soft click as it swung open. The trio swung their heads to the large four-legged silhouette framed in the doorway.  
  
“Patrick?”  
  
The Were stepped into the dimly lit room and shook his fur out, his golden eyes holding a haunted light. One of the people already there, straightened, large body held stiffly.  
  
Pat turned toward him flagging his tail and growling low.  _Father..._  
  
Alpha sighed wearily. “Something’s happened hasn’t it?”  
  
Pat nodded his head slowly ears flattening back slightly.  _Pierre...attacked another woman..._  
  
“Damn...” The elder Were glanced at the other two occupants, just as a soft gasp left one of them, a woman who sat furthest from the door. “Serena?”  
  
Sherry moved into the glow of the single lamp, her brown eyes filled with anxiety. Alpha looked at her his expression grave. She clutched at the skirt she was wearing. Luna, who was the third person in the room lounging on an old mattress, had given the other vampire the skirt.  
  
“Serena,” Alpha repeated gently.  
  
Sherry swallowed hard.  
  
“I...have no idea what would be causing this...”  
  
Pat snarled.  
  
 _The woman was a virgin..._  He pawed at the floor.  _But, that’s not the main problem...the main problem is that now two women have died in the space of a night..._  
  
Sherry shook her head. “It’ll end up on the news...won’t it?”  
  
“The fact that two women were murdered in exactly the same way. Yes. But...the humans won’t suspect vampires.” Alpha sighed and looked back to his son. “What will you do?”  
  
Pat sat back on his haunches, fur bristling.  _I’m not sure. I’ll have to talk to Pierre._  He turned his nose toward Sherry.  _And, you have to meet with him. But...I think Johnny wants to organise that._  
  
The vampire lying on the mattress sat up, eyes widening slightly. “Johnny is here in TO?”  
  
Alpha frowned sharply at Luna.  
  
She lifted a lip, fang showing, and brushing long mahogany hair from her face. “Answer the question.”  
  
“Yes. He is. But, so is your brother. So, your son is off limits to you.”  
  
Luna sighed and looked away. Sherry cast an empathetic glance toward the other woman. She understood how that felt, at least a little. Then she turned her attention back to Pat. The Were was scratching at his neck with his back paw, rumbling in his throat.  
  
“Pat?”  
  
He swung his head toward her and gazed out at her with warm golden eyes.  _Yes?_  
  
“I...will meet with him.”  
  
Pat cocked his head.  _Well and good_. He stood.  _I have to get back to the bus before dawn._  He looked to Alpha.  _Look out for trouble. And, I’ll send our Brother back to the clan on my way out._  
  
The Brother was Pat’s partner in crime in Toronto. The older Werewolf was one of the many Brothers’ who called the Canadian city home. The two of them worked together well as a unit and the previous night had been one of those times when they were able to remain concealed regardless of the scene they had witnessed.  
  
Pat shuddered at the memory; it had shaken him to the core of his being. Even the Brother had been suitably disturbed. Pierre Bouvier was not an enlightened member of the vampire species that was certain. His vampire side had found its niche, its place in the world. Though, what alarmed Pat the most was that it had not taken long for Pierre’s true colours to be revealed.  
  
It was not even a month since Pierre had turned and he was already showing signs that only mature vampires exhibited. Of course, the fact that he was Shadows’ son may have something to do with the rapid rate of maturity. Still, it was unsettling and it made for a very dangerous situation.  
  
Add to that the fact that he had attacked two virgin women...it was not a good sign at all. Pat growled and glanced around the three faces.  
  
Alpha scratched at his jaw. “Before you leave, son. I have a question.”  
  
Pat wagged his tail.  _Yeah?_  
  
“Does Pierre know that you know about the first woman?”  
  
 _No. And...well, I didn’t see that one happen. I smelt it on him. And I saw the images in his mind..._  
  
Alpha nodded. “Right. Well, you’d better go.”  
  
Pat rumbled low in his throat then swung around and headed back out into the alley way, the heavy door sealing them from his view. Then after glancing up and down the alley he vanished from it without a sound.  
  
 _ **Simple Plan Tour Bus  
  
3 AM**_  
  
Chuck lay flat on his back in his bunk staring up at the tattered ceiling above him. His bed was furthest away from everyone else because he was more comfortable that way. He was able to sleep better. However, he also had a good vantage point to his oldest friend’s bunk.  
  
Pierre’s bunk was on the opposite side close to the back. The larger male was lying on his side facing the aisle dark eyelashes resting lightly against his rounded cheeks. He was fast asleep as were the rest of the guys, except Chuck obviously.  
  
The drummer shifted on his side and frowned faintly whilst staring at Pierre’s peacefully slumbering form. Chuck was still wondering at what he had seen the night before. He could have sworn that the singer had just vanished into thin air directly in front of him.  
  
The rational part of his mind was telling him that was impossible that the crowd must have surged around his friend and that the lights from the stage had been playing tricks on his eyes.  
  
However, another more quizzical part of his brain was whispering strange thoughts to him; thoughts he never believed could be possible, thoughts of strange and different beings, of creatures with supernatural powers, of creatures that should only exist in stories.  
  
He laughed silently to himself. It was absolutely ludicrous of course. There were no such things as - actually he wasn’t sure what he thought there wasn’t supposed to be. It was all too confusing.  
  
Rolling onto his back, Chuck heaved a deep sigh then frowned as he heard footsteps coming down the aisle. He leaned back over and blinked slowly. Pat was creeping along the aisle as silently as possible, obviously not wanting to draw any attention.  
  
Chuck frowned and debated whether he should call out to him. Then he decided it would be better not to. That way he could figure out what the hell the other man was up to. Pat had been acting a little mysterious of late, disappearing at the most inopportune of times and making excuses such as he needed to organise shit for Role Model or Man of the Hour. The rest of the band bought these little lies but Chuck wasn’t so easily fooled.  
  
He watched as Pat paused by Pierre’s bunk and stood gazing at the singer with a slight scowl on his face. Chuck observed as lines appeared on either side of Pat’s nostrils and the bridge of his nose wrinkled. Then Pat shook his head slightly and wandered to the empty bunk at the opposite end, clambering in and tweaking shut the curtain that hung in front.  
  
The drummer pondered what had just happened, mind swirling rapidly over the thoughts that were accumulating in his mind. Eventually though exhaustion caught up with him and he slipped into a dreamless sleep, and did not wake until well into the morning.  
  
 _ **10:30 AM**_  
  
“Goddamn it, Pierre!”  
  
Chuck woke to the sound of Pat yelling at the singer, voice strained as tight as was humanly possible. He poked his head out of his bunk, noting vaguely that Jeff, Seb and David were all doing exactly the same thing as he was: hanging out of their bunks watching the scene unfolding in the aisle.  
  
Pierre was standing directly outside of his bunk arms folded tightly across his chest, head down, chin tucked into his chest. He was wearing his old OSAKA hoodie with the hood pulled up over his head. Patrick was standing in front of him poking a finger forcefully into the air inches away from the singer’s concealed face. The tension in the air was palpable, a living thing that Chuck felt he could reach out and actually grab a hold of. He shivered and pulled his sheets around his legs watching on warily.  
  
“You’re unbelievable!” Pat ground out, tersely. “Fucking unbelievable! I can’t believe you would fucking do that!”  
  
Pierre flicked his eyes up to meet Pat’s briefly, then averted his gaze mumbling harshly. “I did nothing, Patrick. You should just shut up.”  
  
“Damn it, Pierre. You’re a god damned singer in a fucking band...we don’t need publicity like this.”  
  
Pierre sneered. “Oh, right. What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Pat. Fuck.” He waved a hand around the bus. “They don’t even know what the fuck is going on. So why would the fucking public?”  
  
Pat groaned. “It’ll be all over the news, Pierre.”  
  
Pierre snorted. “What the fuck do  _you_  know?” His eyes narrowed, jaw tightening as his fangs punched out into his mouth. He could feel them beginning to elongate and he pressed his lips together tightly to prevent the tips from showing.  
  
Pat saw the singer’s eyes reddening and stepped closer, growling low.  _You cannot lose control now, Pierre..._  
  
Pierre stepped back, grabbing hold of the edge of his bunk, squeezing tightly allowing the wood to dig into his palm, hoping that the sudden pain would distract him.  _How the fuck do you know what I’ve done, anyway, wolf..._  There was a distinct snarl to the vampire’s tone.  _What the hell do you know?_  
  
Pat shuddered but held firm. “What do I know?” He snapped out loud. “I know enough.”  
  
Chuck cleared his throat then swinging out of his bunk. As much as he wanted to know what the hell his friends’ were going on about, he had just realised what time it was and that the band had commitments for the day.  
  
Pierre and Pat jerked their heads around and stared at the drummer fixedly.  
  
“What?” The singer was the first to speak.  
  
Chuck shook his head. “Y’know...as amusing as you two bitching at each other is...we have to be at an interview in half an hour.”  
  
Pierre grumbled and turned his back on both the drummer and Patrick, rummaging through the junk on his bunk. Pat sighed, nodded to Chuck and walked down the aisle and disappeared into the tiny toilet.  
  
The others climbed out of their bunks and set about getting ready, all the while casting furtive, and confused, glances toward Pierre as the singer stomped around the bus, obviously in a foul mood.  
  
Ten minutes later all six men were sitting in a taxi-van watching the buildings flash by as they made their way to the MTV Headquarters. They would be appearing on TRL for an interview and four song acoustic set.  
  
Chuck was looking forward to it; promoting the band’s new album in their birth country was number one on his agenda. Jeff and Seb were also looking forward to it, and David, well the effervescent bassist was ecstatic. He was always excited to go on TRL even if they weren’t going to do anything.  
  
However, Pierre was completely indifferent to the coming engagement. His mind was elsewhere, focusing on the ‘conversation’ he’d just had with Pat. He was curious to know how the Were had known about the two women. Short of following him there was no way, to the best of his knowledge, that Pat could have found out.  
  
He cast an emotionless eye toward Pat who sat on the other side of the cab, staring fixedly out the window. Pierre could see tension in the way the other male held his body. Pat was obviously extremely pissed off. The singer shifted and growled under his breath in Pat’s direction.  
  
The Were swivelled his head to meet Pierre’s stare.  _Yeah?_  
  
Pierre’s lips curled slightly.  _I need to feed when we get there._  
  
Pat snorted and looked away.  _After what you’ve fucking pulled...I’m not doing it._  
  
Pierre frowned, nonplussed.  _What?_  
  
Pat propped his chin against a closed fist staring hard out the window.  _Feed from someone else. I’m not feeding you._  
  
The singer shrugged.  _Meh, no skin off my nose. I’m sure I’ll find some willing person._  
  
Pat grumbled coldly,  _Or unwilling as the case may be..._  
  
Pierre bristled, lips tightening over his fangs.  _What the fuck was that, Pat?_  
  
Pat didn’t respond, and Chuck leaned forward, looking out as the cab pulled into a driveway and rolled to a stop. “We’re here....MTV studios...”  
  
Pierre turned his head and said, scathingly, “Oh, I thought we were at the zoo?”  
  
Chuck frowned but before he could say anything, Pat leaned over and slapped the bigger male across the back of his head. The singer swung his head around and pinned him with a hard stare.  
  
Pat didn’t even flinch, he met Pierre’s gaze directly, jaw tensed, lips pressed together.  _You’re a fucking idiot, Pierre.  
  
No. You’re the idiot, Pat. Don’t piss me off..._  
  
Chuck tilted his head sensing something pass between the two men. He couldn’t tell what it was but it was as if they were communicating with each other.  
  
He shook his head at himself and pushed open the door, stepping out. “Come on...we need to get in there.”  
  
Pierre grumbled still staring frostily at Pat. Pat flipped the singer off as he grabbed his laptop and camera bag and climbed out of the cab.  
  
Pierre sighed heavily and followed gazing up toward the back entrance and hoping that even for a few hours he could just forget about the whole morning. Start afresh. This whole MTV thing would be the start of his day proper. That was his fervent wish. Well, at least after he had found someone to feed from...  
  
* * * * *  
  
“So, boys. Tell me, how long has it been since you were last here?” Damien, MTV TRL’s ever smiling host, glanced along the line at the five band members.  
  
Chuck stood right next to him raking his fingers through his hair, holding a microphone in the other. “Well,” Chuck cleared his throat. “It feels like a year...but it’s probably been a little less than that. We came on sometime last year before we went into the studio to record.”  
  
“Yeah, we were just back from Brazil and came on,” Jeff commented, he stood next to Chuck, rocking back on his left foot and fingering the buckle on his belt.  
  
David was leaning against the bald guitarist’s shoulder waving absently to the fans who were gathered around the level stage. Seb was next to them and Pierre was furthest away from the host, and the fans, gazing absently around the studio.  
  
Damien nodded slowly glancing at a card he held in his hand. “Right, so your album has been released now...Self-Titled? Correct?”  
  
Chuck nodded. “Yes, we thought that this album was the one we needed to make. It’s us...pure and simple.”  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes and mumbled faintly under his breath. Unfortunately, due to the microphone he held in his hand, the grumble was audible to the others in the studio and everybody turned their heads to stare at him.  
  
“You have something to say, Pierre?” Damien gazed quizzically at the singer.  
  
Pierre shook his head slightly. “No. Not really.”  
  
He bit at his bottom lip and glanced around the studio. His senses when he’d entered the room had gone on high alert. The automatic reaction of a predator entering a place filled with potential prey. He had no idea how long he could control the need that was beginning to build inside him. Being still a relatively new vampire he figured he needed to feed more frequently than matured ones.  
  
Pierre knew also that because Pat had snubbed him he would have to find someone else to feed from, but how long the interview and set went for would determine how badly he would need it once they finished. What he was most anxious of was losing control in the studio, because that would just be a complete inconvenience for everyone concerned.  
  
Damien turned back to Chuck. “Right, well today you are going to be performing a few of your new songs for us, acoustically. So, what are you going to do, Chuck?”  
  
The drummer laughed. “I’m the tambourine guy. Sometimes Pierre does the singing and that...but I wanted to do it today.”  
  
“What? Sing?” David interjected, laughing uproariously.  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes and spoke up this time, holding his mike close to his lips and leaning forward. “Yeah, that’s right. Funky-C is in the house.”  
  
Chuck grinned, “I actually have a spoken word part on  _Holding On_...that was fun to do.”  
  
“Don’t expect to do it again,” Pierre half-joked.  
  
His friend just smirked at him then glanced back at Damien. “Anyway, I’ll play the tambourine. Keep time, because these idiots can’t do it otherwise.”  
  
They all laughed, shaking their heads and slapping each other on the back. Pierre was the only one who didn’t join in, shoving his free hand into the back pocket of his jeans.  
  
Damien tucked the card into his back pocket and smiled as the band turned their attention back to him. “Okay, well before you guys go and get ready to perform...do you have a request?”  
  
David grinned. “You know that the guys from Avenged are in town at the moment?”  
  
Damien nodded, “Yes. I went to their show last night. They went off in a big way...amazing gig. You want to play one of their videos?”  
  
Pierre tensed slightly, eyes narrowing, but saying nothing.  
  
The bassist grinned nodding hard. “Play their latest video... _Afterlife_...”  
  
“Righto, then.” Damien turned to face the cameras. “Whilst the boys go and set up...here is Avenged Sevenfold’s video for  _Afterlife_...”  
  
 _ **MTV Studio Backstage  
  
Noon**_  
  
“So,  _Save You_  was written about your brother?” Damien leaned in the doorway to the dressing room Simple Plan was using.  
  
Pierre was in the middle of removing his black shirt and grey T-shirt, wiping the sweat from his upper torso.  
  
He looked toward the host and nodded slightly, even though he really did not want to be drawn into conversation about his older brother. His mind was occupied with attempting to keep his hunger in check. It had gotten worse, particularly since the set had gone on for ten minutes longer than usual.  
  
 _Not really my brother..._  He nodded more, answering shortly. “He was really sick. But, he’s better now.”  
  
He grabbed his bag and stepped toward the door. He wanted to go take a shower. They were in a separate section of the studio.  
  
However, Damien hovered in the doorway blocking his way out. “He had cancer, right?”  
  
Pierre’s lips tightened. “Yes. But he’s better now.”  _Lies...lies..._  
  
The host opened his mouth to keep asking questions, but Pierre squeezed passed him.  
  
“Look, I need to go cleanup...”  
  
Damien let him go and left leaving the rest of the band in peace.  
  
Pierre wandered the long corridor until he found his way to the studio shower room. As he was about to step through the door, he halted catching the smell of fresh human blood. He frowned, dropping his bag on the floor and backtracking to another hallway. He glanced down it and noticed a girl leaning up against the wall.  
  
She was quite small, yet had a well-proportioned frame. Fire-red hair was cut in a short bob, and soft green eyes were downcast. Pierre noted that she was right next to the door that leads into the female toilets. He tilted his head, lip peeling away from his fangs. His hunger began to increase, and he silently cursed the fact that Pat had rejected him.  
  
Still, the sudden awareness of the close rushing of human blood, made him realise he had probably just found a solution to his hunger. Smirking, he slowly approached the chick, catching sight of a VIP laminate clipped to the skirt that she was barely wearing. The girl was obviously a fan who had won a competition to gain VIP access to the TRL studios.  
  
She glanced up as he got closer and her eyes almost bugged out of her head. She gripped the laminate, staring up at him. “Oh...my...God...you’re....”  
  
Pierre laughed low, holding a hand out to her. “Pierre Bouvier. Simple Plan. Vocalist.” _Vampire...predator..._  
  
The girl gulped, throat moving enticingly as she swallowed. The vampire shivered feeling his body stiffen in all the right places. He kept his hand out. The girl grasped it and allowed him to pull her to her feet. Once she was standing she made to pull her hand out of his grasp.  
  
Pierre tightened his hold and crowded her against the wall. “What’s the hurry? I’d like to know what you’re doing down here...”  
  
The girl trembled instantly sensing that she was in trouble. Not the, ‘you shouldn’t be down here’ kind of trouble, no, the kind of trouble where she could lose her life. The girl could see the death in Pierre’s deep black stare.  
  
She panicked and tried to pull away from him, but she was no match for his inhuman strength. Pierre snarled low and dragged her into the girls’ bathroom. Hustling her into a cubicle he locked them inside and shoved her up against the wall.  
  
The girl cried out, but he silenced her by claiming her mouth in a brutal kiss. He pinned her wriggling body against the side of the cubicle whilst wrestling her panties off her hips, unzipping himself and forcing his hard length into her tight body.  
  
He grunted as the head met her intact maidenhead. Jerking his mouth from hers, forcing her head back, he clamped his lips tight on her throat, fangs lengthening and punching into the skin. Her body tightened then thrashed, pussy walls clamping on his cock. He snarled and jerked his hips, piercing her hymen and sliding all the way inside her fighting body.  
  
As he felt her pussy close all the way along his length, he pulled at the blood in her vein and began to drink, allowing her dying body to feed his animalistic hunger. He groaned in satisfaction, moving slowly inside her tight hole and, as he fed, darkness descended upon his soul.  
  
What his mother had most feared, and his father most desired, was coming true. He truly was his father’s son...as black as the deepest, darkest pits of Hell...


	22. Reunions of sorts

_**Avenged Sevenfold Bus  
  
12:15 PM**_  
  
It was quiet on the Avenged tour bus. Synyster was on the top level fiddling with his guitars. Zacky was asleep on his bunk muttering to himself in his sleep. Shadows and The Rev were sitting on the lower level just relaxing. Johnny was nowhere to be seen.  
  
Suddenly, Shadows’ head jerked up from the magazine he was reading, muscles tightening.  
  
The Rev who lounged opposite him glanced over, frowning. “What is it, Matt?”  
  
The big male growled low slamming his hand against the wall and swinging his head around to stare towards the back of the bus; Johnny came out of the tiny washroom just as he did as if silently summonsed.  
  
Wiping his hands on his pants he tilted his head toward the vampire. “Master?”  
  
Shadows stood and padded toward the Were stopping directly in front of him and glaring at him. “I want Pierre. Here. Now.”  
  
Johnny blinked slowly. He did not have to ask why the master vampire was ordering him to do this. It was pretty damned obvious; he had sensed what Shadows had. Pierre Bouvier had raped, killed and fed from four virgins in the past two days and each time his soul had slipped further into the darkness.  
  
Still, he asked at any rate, just to get clarification. “Why?”  
  
Shadows groaned smearing his hands over his face. “He just attacked another human female...”  
  
Johnny shifted nervously on his feet. “Where is he?”  
  
Shadows closed his eyes then lowered his hands, unhooking his shades from where they hung at the neck of his muscle-shirt. “TRL studios. The band’s there.”  
  
Johnny nodded and stepped back, steeling his nerves. “Right...I’ll get going then.”  
  
Shadows caught hold of his left arm and pegged the Were with a warning glare. “One thing, Christ.”  
  
“Yes, master?”  
  
The master vampire’s gaze hardened. “Don’t play me. You get him and bring him here, understand? No fucking around.”  
  
Johnny nodded; swallowing passed a lump that had formed in his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing slowly. “Understood.”  
  
Shadows released his arm, and then scowled a thought coming to him. “While you’re at it, bring Serena.”  
  
The Were tensed. “Huh?”  
  
The master vampire gave a slow, cold smile. “You found her. Bring her here as well.”  
  
Johnny shivered, stomach clenching, fear welling deep inside. “How did you find out...?”  
  
Shadows snarled. “I see all. Don’t think you can hide anything from me, pup.”  
  
The Were bowed his head in response, then scratching at his face, stepped back and breathed out roughly. “Right...well...I’ll bring them both here...”  
  
The master vampire walked back to his seat opposite The Rev and slumped back down, waving a dismissive hand.  
  
Johnny closed his eyes but just as he was about to disappear, The Rev caught at his mind speaking urgently.  _Whatever you do...when you find Pierre...don’t bring him back here..._  
  
Johnny bit at his bottom lip.  _If I disobey Shadows..._  
  
The Rev was insistent though.  _Just don’t bring him back here...take his mother to him...but...don’t...don’t bring him back here...or her, for that matter..._  
  
Johnny sighed and gave a barely perceptible nod of his head then vanished without another thought.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Johnny appeared in the small hideout that Alpha was using. The elder Werewolf was not there but Sherry was seated on a low couch reading a book.  
  
Her head lifted when she sensed the younger Were entering the room. “Johnny?”  
  
The Halfling nodded sitting opposite her. “Hey...” His voice was tense.  
  
Sherry noticed and tilted her head toward him. “Is something wrong?”  
  
Instead of answering, Johnny leaned his head back and stared up at the line of single bulbs dangling from the ceiling. He held his body stiffly, afraid to relax. Sherry frowned but then turned her head sharply to the side as a door that lead further into the set of buildings they were in swung open.  
  
Johnny’s head lifted just as they both heard a sharp female voice cursing in a mix of French and English words. “ _Tabernac_...that shit...I can’t believe-” The voice cut off abruptly an air of shock filling the room.  
  
Luna Sanders halted in the doorway staring at the young male sitting on the sofa. Johnny stared back at her, eyes equally as surprised.  
  
Sherry glanced between the two of them, brow furrowed. Her unspoken question was answered moments later as the younger female dropped the bags of shopping she was holding and took several faltering steps forward and sank to her knees in front of Johnny.  
  
“Son...” Her usually crisp, steady voice wavered uncontrollably.  
  
Johnny sat there stunned unable to respond, just swallowing repeatedly, Adams’ apple bobbing nervously. Luna shook her head and reached out hesitantly to press a hand to his left knee. She held it there briefly then pulled it back, pressing the same hand to her mouth.  
  
Tears began to trickle from her eyes and down her face. “Johnny...”  
  
He cleared his throat taking in the female’s appearance: Eyes travelling from her long mahogany hair, to the deep brown eyes that were so similar to his, over her slender frame to her trembling hands.  
  
Then he brought his gaze back to hers. “Mother...” He gulped, voice catching. He smeared his hands over his face, a shiver running through his body. “What are you doing here?” His voice ached, throat seizing up. He rubbed at his neck, fingers kneading the tattoo that was inked there on the left side.  
  
Luna laughed sadly. “Do you not remember? I was sent here...by...Matthew.”  
  
Johnny bit at his bottom lip as a memory surfaced that he had forgotten. When he had first become Shadows’ slave, his mother had somehow gotten tangled into the mix. The master vampire had found it in his heart to spare her as well, considering she was a vampire herself, and sent her away to Montreal to be with Johnny’s Were kin.  
  
Luna saw the thoughts passing across her son’s face and smiled weakly. “Oh, Johnny...there are some things I need to tell you...but...” She paused and glanced toward Sherry then back at her son. “You’re here for another reason, eh?”  
  
Johnny nodded reluctantly. It had been over eighty years since he had last seen his mother and he just wanted to listen to her talk, but he had a job to do. And he had to change his plans once again. There was no time for him to contact Pierre and ask him if it were alright for him to bring Sherry to see him. He had to do this off the cuff, otherwise Shadows would get suspicious.  
  
He sighed, and looked to Sherry. The small female curled on the other couch, sucking absently at a fang.  
  
“Serena...um...we have to go...and see Pierre.” He scratched his cheek. “Well, I have to take you to meet him.”  
  
Sherry blinked at him, deep brown eyes filled with a rising amount of fear. “Why? Has something happened?”  
  
Johnny clenched his fist tightly thinking on what The Rev had said. He chewed at his bottom lip, worrying it just as a dog would worry a bone.  
  
Then he came to a decision and looked back at her. “Shadows told me to bring Pierre and you to him...”  
  
“What?” Sherry stood in a rush and held her hands out. “No! You cannot...”  
  
The Were shook his head, holding a hand up to quiet her protest. “I won’t. The Rev told me not to...under no circumstance...” Johnny scowled. “I don’t know what that was about.”  
  
Luna spoke up. “I think I do.”  
  
Johnny swivelled his head to his mother. “How would you know?”  
  
The female met his questioning gaze making her own decisions as she studied his face. “Jimmy is not the male you think he is, Johnny.” She paused, rubbing at her lower lip. “He has made many promises...most of them to Matthew.” Luna tilted her chin up, expression becoming grave. “But, he made me two promises.”  
  
Johnny frowned deeply. “Why would he promise you anything?”  
  
Luna laughed quietly finally speaking words she had never spoken in the centuries she had lived. “He gave his heart to me.” She looked up at her son. “He loved me...even when I was with your father...he loved me as only as a strongly bonded male can.” She shook her head slowly, a look of distant disbelief in her eyes. “He was every bit Matthew’s creature...but...” Luna stopped and met Johnny’s shocked expression. “Son, I guess I should tell you something I never told you when you were young.”  
  
“What’s that?” He leaned towards her, expectantly. The younger female licked at her lips casting a sideways glance at Sherry. The other female had averted her gaze giving the two of them a semblance of privacy.  
  
Luna shifted on her knees and sighed wearily. “My maiden name is Luna Amyrilla Sanders...Shadows...Matthew...is my older brother.”  
  
The colour drained from Johnny’s face. “ _No_...that’s not possible...” His voice was a mere whispered hiss.  
  
Luna trembled but nodded firmly. “It’s the truth, Johnny. Matt...Matt spared me not because you asked him to...but because I’m his little sister.”  
  
Johnny stood abruptly and began to pace, the information slowly sinking into his mind. The implications of the knowledge sent his mind into a spin. “God...you’re...you’re serious, aren’t you?” He looked at her.  
  
Luna’s responding expression was grave. There was no need for her to answer, it was written all over her face. Johnny groaned, but then shook it off and turned his eyes to Serena. He didn’t have time to ponder what his mother had just told him. No matter what questions those would have to wait. He had to do what he had come to do. Then he could worry about his own personal issues.  
  
He cleared his throat, meeting his friend’s bright stare. “We have to go now.”  
  
Serena lifted her chin, rising to her feet, and folding her hands in front of her. “I’m ready.”  
  
“Right, well...come on then.” Johnny moved close and gently took hold of her arm; then with a barely perceptible nod of his head to his mother he vanished them from the hideout.  
  
 _ **TRL Studios  
  
Backstage  
  
1 PM**_  
  
“Pierre? Pierre?  _Pierre!? Fuck..._ ” Patrick thrust his way into the cubicle that Pierre had locked himself in and froze at the scene that confronted him.  _Holy shit..._  
  
Pierre lifted his head from the broken body still hanging limp between his body and the wall.  
  
He scowled when he recognised his friend. “What the fuck are you doing back here Langlois?”  
  
Pat snorted harshly in response. “Might ask the same of you, Bouvier. But, that would be pretty fuckin’ pointless.”  
  
Pierre chuckled and withdrew allowing the girl’s body to fall to the floor, readjusting his jeans and buckling his belt. Pat grimaced then sighed shaking his head and clicking his tongue softly.  
  
Pierre’s eyebrows lifted in surprise as, with a soft pop, the body disappeared and the blood that had spilt on the floor vanished. “How in Hell...?”  
  
The Were growled. “You won’t be able to do that.” His lip pulled up savagely. “That’s why your kind enslaved ours.”  
  
Pierre frowned and leaned back against the cubicle wall.  
  
Pat stared hard at him, nostrils flaring. “That girl...she was a virgin.”  
  
“So?”  
  
Pat just shook his head. “So nothing.” He sighed wearily. “I don’t have time to get in a fight with you...just...come back to the dressing room.”  
  
Pierre cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowing. “The others’ are waiting for me?”  
  
Pat glowered hard at his friend. “Chuck’s becoming suspicious. The others, fortunately for them, are not so observant.”  
  
The vampire sighed wearily and moved out of the cubicle, going to one of the basins and turning on the tap, splashing cold water into his face. Pat was about to speak again when he tensed and turned his head away, eyes slitting.  
  
Pierre frowned toward him. “What is it?”  
  
Pat glanced at his friend, lips turned down in a grim expression. “Johnny...he wants us to meet us at a bar in town.”  
  
Pierre cocked an eyebrow and asked, “When?”  
  
The Were glanced at his watch. “Half an hour.”  
  
“What about the band though?”  
  
Pat rubbed his face. “We’ll just have to tell them...something. Make something up.”  
  
Pierre sighed, “You do it...I’ll meet Johnny at the bar.”  
  
The Were and the vampire met each other’s gaze full on then at that instant, gauging the situation, and then Pat nodded and swung around to exit the girls’ bathroom. Pierre shut his eyes and focused on Johnny’s whereabouts disappearing in a flash.  
  
 _ **L’Orange Bar  
  
Same Time**_  
  
Sherry folded her hands in front of her, eyes darting warily around the interior of the bar. Johnny stood directly to her left, hand resting gently on her left shoulder. She glanced at him; he could see anxiety in her deep brown stare.  
  
“Serena?”  
  
Sherry shook her head and lowered her chin against her chest.  
  
He caught hold of her chin and tilted it up. “Everything’s going to be fine, sweetie.”  
  
The female hunched up her shoulders still shaking her head. She couldn’t believe her friend, but neither could she bring herself to tell him what she was so afraid of. However, Johnny knew her well enough to know that something was seriously bothering her.  
  
So he took her gently by the arm and led her over to a table to sit. “Tell me, what’s up?”  
  
Sherry rested her face in her hands, breathing deeply. “Something...something’s going to happen...”  
  
Johnny scrunched up his face. “Whaddya mean?”  
  
Lowering her head even more, she just shook her head.  
  
The young Were sighed and stood. “Look, I’m going to grab a drink...just stay here, okay?”  
  
Sherry nodded and propped her chin on her arms. Johnny tilted his head noticing that somehow she had lightened her hair to a soft milk chocolate hue, and her skin was a little warmer in tone. He shook his head at that realising she must be trying to disguise herself. Turning he wandered away to the bar, leaving Sherry to herself.  
  
The female closed her eyes and just relaxed but then she heard a footstep beside her. Her eyes snapped open and she glanced up, recognising the figure standing next to her table. However, he didn’t seem to recognise her and just tilted his head smirking faintly. She noted a hint of evil to the smile and shivered.  
  
“Hello there, pretty...mind if I join you here?”  
  
Sherry swallowed hard staring at the male and hoping that Johnny would hurry up and join her. Still, she could not be rude; she had been brought up well.  
  
Nodding slightly, she forced a smile on her lips, concealing her fangs. “Um...sure...”  
  
Pierre slid onto the chair opposite and gazed in wonder-lust at the female. He had seen her as soon as he’d entered the bar, and even though he was supposed to be looking for Johnny and his mother...he couldn’t help but approach her. After all, there was time enough to find the young Were.  
  
“So...you here alone?”  
  
A chill raced down Sherry’s spine. Her son was extremely male, extremely dangerous; power oozed from his pores, and those deep brown eyes that mirrored her own...they held deadly promises. She bit at her bottom lip, even though she knew that would probably draw him on.  
  
Pierre smirked, nostrils flaring faintly. Leaning over the table, resting his inked left arm against it, he flashed his teeth at her. Sherry noticed that he also concealed his fangs, so she wouldn’t see them. However, obviously he must realise she was one of his kind. He had to, right?  
  
“Well?”  
  
Hearing him speak was surreal. Sherry had never imagined that his voice would sound so smooth, so rich...it didn’t remind her of Shadows, not in the least. Pierre was definitely his own person. But, there was still some of his father in him, and that worried her immensely.  
  
She shook her head slightly.  
  
Pierre’s gaze narrowed as he glanced behind her. “Come with someone?”  
  
Sherry nodded slightly.  
  
The male snorted. "You even talk, sweetie?”  
  
“Uh...yes...I do..just...not a lot...”  
  
Pierre tilted his head staring at her. Sherry tucked her head down unable to meet his gaze. It was too unnerving. Suddenly he was right behind her, his body pressed close behind her chair, crowding her. She gasped and jumped slightly, holding her hand to her heart.  
  
He slid a hand around her neck and leaned close inhaling her scent. “Mmmm...you smell nice...”  
  
Sherry stiffened hearing the lust in Pierre’s voice.  _Damn it...hurry up, Johnny...._  
  
Pierre growled low and grabbed at her arm, pulling her up out of the chair.  
  
Sherry tensed even more, heart rate increasing, pounding in her chest.  _Not good...not good...Johnny...Johnny...hurry up..._  
  
She glanced at the big male. Pierre’s eyes had gone black. She trembled, vaguely thinking that he wasn’t as big as Shadows. But, still he was much larger than her. And that would not bode well for her, if she let him take her.  
  
Darting her eyes quickly around the bar, she did the only thing she could. She vanished, right from in front of her son, and as she did so, she allowed her disguise to slip, and, she wiped the minds of any human who happened to be close by.  
  
The last things she heard were Johnny’s voice yelling out to her: “SERENA!”  
  
And Pierre’s shocked response. “ _Merde_! That was my  _mother_?!”  
  
Sherry sighed sadly, feeling a tear slide down her face as she completely disappeared.  _Yes...my son...that is who I am..._


	23. The perils of Comeau

_**Same Day  
  
Streets of TO  
  
3 PM**_  
  
 _Holy shit, Pierre...what the fuck were you thinking?_  
  
Pierre strode down the street, jaw clenched tight. Pat was right on his heels expression severe as he spoke harshly to his friend in his mind. The vampire halted, the Were almost running into his back. Pierre hissed menacingly, fangs showing as he swung angrily around to face Pat.  
  
Pat backed off, but Pierre caught hold of his shirt and hauled him down a small alley slamming him up against the wall.  
  
Leaning close, he bared his fangs at the Were.  _I didn’t fucking know that it was my mother okay, you stupid wolf._  
  
Pat shivered staring in Pierre’s eyes. The irises had changed to a blood red and a scent of pure evil oozed from the vampire’s pores.  
  
“Pierre...”  
  
Pierre’s eyes narrowed coldly and he slowly looked his friend up and down. He licked his lips, fangs beginning to throb. “I need to feed before we go back...”  
  
His fangs lengthened, saliva beading at the tips.  
  
Pat swallowed hard but leaned his head back against the wall, tilting his chin, offering his jugular to the vampire. Pierre hissed savagely then struck fast as a snake, fangs sinking into the Were’s unresisting flesh. Pat groaned but held still closing his eyes trying to ignore the soft sucking sounds that came from Pierre’s mouth as he fed.  
  
Pierre braced his palms against the wall as he drank from the Were’s blood, pure sustenance, and nothing more. It was different to human blood, a spicy aroma to the viscous fluid. He growled as he drew more of the sweet liquid into his mouth, the hot blood flowing down his throat into his stomach, filling him up.  
  
Sighing, he eventually pulled away, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. Pat panted heavily, pressing fingertips to the puncture wounds in his throat. Pierre turned his head away biting at his bottom lip, the anger all but gone now. Remorse now filled his heart and he stared hard at a point in the distance.  
  
Pat licked at his fingers then rubbed them over his throat, watching the vampire. “Pierre...?”  
  
Pierre breathed out roughly, shoulders slumping. “Lucky she disappeared on me...otherwise...I think I would’ve...”  
  
Pat sighed. “Yeah...”  
  
Pierre turned tired eyes toward his friend. “I would’ve attacked her like those other women...”  
  
Pat nodded, knowing that was probably true. Whilst his friend had fed from him he had felt the violence in his hunger. If Serena had stayed and in her disguise, Pierre would most likely have drained her dry as he had done the others. He at least, being a Lycan, was safe. He was far too strong a being for Pierre to kill by feeding on him.  
  
He did feel a little lightheaded though. Pierre had spent a longer time feeding this time than other times. However, Pat knew all he needed was some sleep and he would be right as rain on the morrow. He had more important things to worry about. This whole issue of Pierre going off attacking innocent humans was something he was going to have to deal with as much discretion as possible.  
  
He glanced at his friend noting one attribute of the young vampire that gave him some hope. He was capable of feeling guilty over the things he had done. Pat could feel the hint of shame emanating from Pierre as he dragged his feet across the pavement. That was not an emotion he had ever sensed coming from Shadows. The master vampire had never had cause to regret any decision he had ever made.  
  
But then again he was just an evil bastard through and through. At least that was what Pat believed. Sighing he rolled his neck and stared straight ahead his mind racing ahead to how the rest of the tour was going to be.  
  
Meanwhile Pierre was wondering whether his mother would come back to find him, or whether he had freaked her out so much that she would remain hidden. He hoped it would be the former, because he really did want to meet with her. If it were the latter though, he knew he would learn to live with it. It weren’t as if she was really a part of his life anyway. It would be just nice to be able to talk to her.  
  
Laughing silently to himself he allowed his mind to wander and he and Pat remained in silence as they made their way back to the bus.  
  
 _ **Simple Plan Bus  
  
4 PM**_  
  
Chuck was sitting in the small lounge on the lower level of the bus when the door hissed open revealing a dishevelled Pierre and a quiet Pat.  
  
The drummer frowned shutting the magazine he had been skimming and sat up. “Hey? Where’ve you been?”  
  
Pat shot a look at Chuck. “I told you where we went, Chuck.”  
  
His friend bit at his bottom lip looking behind him at Pierre. The singer shuffled passed not meeting his gaze disappearing into the tiny cubicle at the back.  
  
Chuck stood nodding after the singer. “What’s up with him?”  
  
Pat just shook his head and flopped down on the long couch grabbing the magazine that Chuck had tossed aside. “AP?”  
  
The drummer nodded and sat again. “Yeah, there’s a review of Avenged’s album in there. Nothing on us though.”  
  
Pat shrugged a little and set it down on the seat next to him.  
  
Chuck picked up his phone and checked his messages then looked up at Pat, speaking absently, just making conversation. “You hear about those murders...was listening to the news before you got back.”  
  
“Murders?” Pat lifted an eyebrow, even though he knew exactly what Chuck was talking about.  
  
The drummer nodded. “The cops found two women...in an alley at the back of one of those bars in town.” He shuddered. “They didn’t say how the women had been killed though.”  
  
Pat scowled thinking that if he hadn’t cleaned up after Pierre the cops would have found a third victim. “Like we’d even want to know...”  
  
Chuck nodded. “True...”  
  
They fell quiet for a moment, but Pat sensed that the drummer was itching to say something else, not just make absentminded conversation.  
  
Chuck fidgeted on his seat, toying with the buckle on his belt and darting glances toward the other end of the bus where Pierre had gone.  
  
Pat groaned softly kneading fingers into the back of his neck. “Chuck, spit it out would you.”  
  
Chuck swivelled his head back around to his friend. “What?”  
  
Pat sighed and pegged him with a sharp look. “Something’s bothering you, pal. Tell me.”  
  
The drummer scrunched up his face in concentration then sighed heavily. “Don’t you think Pierre’s been acting weird lately?” He bit at his bottom lip. “And that...uh...argument you were having with him this morning...”  
  
Pat crossed his left foot across his knee resting a hand on his ankle. “What about it?” He was careful to keep his tone casual.  
  
Chuck stretched his legs out then tucked them back under the seat. “Well...I was wondering...” He sucked in a deep breath, and then glanced toward the toilet again just as Pierre stepped out. The singer met his gaze that time and arched an eyebrow.  
  
Chuck clenched a fist slightly then blurted out harshly the question that had been banging around inside him ever since that morning. “Have you been doing drugs, Pierre?”  
  
Pierre’s eyebrows drew together tight across his eyes, the pupils narrowing. Pat stiffened, hackles bristling slightly, but he said nothing watching the vampire in silence.  
  
Pierre came down the aisle and halted in front of his oldest friend and glowered at him. “What makes you think that I am?”  
  
Chuck snorted. “You’ve been disappearing on us...and the way you’ve been acting during interviews and performances.” He raked fingers through his hair. “Oh...and you just disappeared on us at the Avenged gig...I mean like...poof...”  
  
Pierre’s lip curled slightly. “Sounds like you’re the one on drugs, Comeau. People don’t just disappear.”  
  
Chuck straightened and glared at him. “You did. And, no. I’m not on drugs. You’re the one acting odd...you and Pat both.” He groaned, “And that shit this morning before we went to TRL...what was that about, Pierre? Sounds like you were doing something that would affect the band’s image if it got out to the public. Definitely sounds like you’re getting involved in something illegal like doing drugs.”  
  
Pierre shrugged looking away.  
  
Pat shifted uncomfortably on the seat next to Chuck. “Chuck...”  
  
The drummer turned on him eyes sharp and intelligent. “You were sneaking around too, is there something you two are hiding from us?”  
  
Pat bit at his bottom lip. He hated lying to his friends. He looked at Pierre who had turned his back, broad shoulders tensed.  _Pierre...?_  
  
Pierre clenched his teeth together.  _What, Pat?  
  
Should we tell him...?_  
  
Pierre shivered a little and glanced over his shoulder at the Lycan, shaking his head a little. Pat pressed his hand to his forehead rubbing hard.  
  
Then he looked at Pierre coming to a decision.  _I’ll do it...you don’t have to stay...I won’t make you say anything..._  
  
Pierre sighed, lifting his shoulders then dropping them as he turned and walked away. Chuck tilted his head in confusion as the singer strode up the stairs to the upper level leaving them alone.  
  
He shifted around to face the other man. “Patrick? What’s going on?”  
  
Pat folded his arms gauging his friend’s utterly bewildered expression. “You wouldn’t believe me. It’d be easier for you to handle if I said it was about drugs.”  
  
Chuck ground his teeth together. “What could be worse than doing drugs?”  
  
Pat leaned his head back. “It’s not a matter of being better or worse than drugs, Chuck.”  
  
“Pat, just tell me. Obviously whatever it is is going to have some impact on us as a band, right? So, I think I have the right to know...and the other guys as well.” A thoughtful look came into his hazel eyes. “And Lach...she just upped and left as well...any idea why?”  
  
Pat’s jaw tightened, white lines etching themselves on either side of his nostrils. He knew the real reason why she had left, but that was one thing he would not reveal to the drummer. “You should ask Pierre about that.”  
  
Chuck nodded absently. “Yeah. So. What’s going on, Patrick?”  
  
The Were leaned forward propping his elbows on his knees and smearing his hands over his face. “Ah...Chuck...this...is not going to be easy for you to hear...”  
  
Chuck folded his arms and glared at his friend. “Try me.”  
  
Pat sat up and fixed the drummer with a cool stare. “Pierre is a vampire, Chuck.”  
  
“Bullshit.” Chuck’s response was instant and his voice was filled with anger and disbelief.  
  
Pat sighed and shook his head slowly. “It’s true.”  
  
“No.” Chuck’s voice was tight. “You can’t be serious, Pat. What kind of shit are you trying to pull? Vampires aren’t real. It’s drugs, isn’t it?”  
  
Pat sighed and kept shaking his head. “No...I’m telling the truth.”  
  
“What a fuckin’ joke. You must think I’m stupid, Pat.”  
  
“Chuck.  _Look at me_.” Pierre’s voice came from the aisle.  
  
Chuck and Pat both swung their heads around having not even heard the older male coming back down the stairs.  
  
The drummer looked at the singer, pain and disappointment in his eyes. “What am I supposed to be looking at Pierre? Huh? Obviously, you and Pat have cooked up some-”  
  
“ _Shut up and look, Charles_ ,” Pierre interrupted roughly, upper lip peeling back from his teeth.  
  
The drummer’s eyes widened in shock. As the singer’s lip lifted, his upper canines visibly began to lengthen, the tips curved to needle points.  
  
Chuck looked as if he were about to faint.  
  
Pat gripped his shoulder firmly, supporting him. “Believe me now, Comeau?”  
  
Pierre concealed his fangs and leaned against the small table watching his best friend. The drummer breathed fast holding a hand to his chest. Then he gave a tiny nod of his head as if he were uncertain what he believed. Pat sighed and leaned back against his seat.  
  
“ _Tabernac_...” Chuck groaned tugging at his hair, and then letting his hand drop into his lap. He peeked up at Pierre. “Vampire?”  
  
Pierre smiled sadly. “Yeah. Was born one. But, the fangs and all that didn’t happen until I turned 29.”  
  
Chuck blinked slowly. “Unbelievable...”  
  
The singer chuckled and propped his ass against the table. “I thought so too. But, I have to live this...so it’s believable to me.”  
  
Chuck scrunched up his face. “Your parents...”  
  
“Rèal and Louise...kind of adopted me, I guess.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
Pierre nodded. “My real parents...are vampires.” He bit at his bottom lip thinking of his mother, and trying not to think of his father.  _Serena...and...Matthew..._  
  
Pat heard the silent voice inside his mind and cast an understanding look at his friend. Pierre heaved a sigh.  
  
“Crap.” Chuck scratched at his right arm. “What do I do with this knowledge?”  
  
Pierre rubbed his knee. “Tell the others?”  
  
“That’s going to be interesting...I mean...I guess I’m open to the idea of vampires and stuff...I’m kinda nerdy like that...but...the others...”  
  
Pat snorted and stood.  
  
Chuck glowered at him. “How come Pierre told you about this?”  
  
Pat halted in mid step and squinted at the drummer. “You really want to know?”  
  
“Yeh. I don’t think anything more could shock me.”  
  
Pierre laughed, rolling his eyes. “Pat’s always known, Chuck. He’s a Werewolf.”  
  
Chuck blinked fast shaking his head. “You’re shitting me.”  
  
“No,” Pierre chuckled low. “I’m not shitting you.”  
  
Pat rolled his eyes and repeated the litany Johnny had stated some time earlier. “Yes, once every month I get shaggy and howl at the moon.”  
  
Chuck looked at the Were and saw the glint in his eyes. “Seriously?”  
  
Pat became serious. “Actually, no. That’s a myth. Lycanthropes are wolves that can change into human form at will.”  
  
Pierre smirked. “And vampires are related to the domestic cat.”  
  
Chuck pressed his lips together. “You two are ridiculous.”  
  
Pierre grinned. “We do good, eh?”  
  
The drummer stared at them then realised that his friends were trying to make light of the matter. He finally allowed himself to relax and laughed.  
  
Through his laughter though, he glanced at them both questioningly. “You’re serious though?”  
  
Pierre and Pat both nodded in the affirmative.  
  
“Wow...” Chuck’s shoulders slumped. “That’s...uh...weird...?”  
  
The singer laughed out right. “Word.”  
  
Pat sat down again next to the drummer. “Truth is stranger than fiction, buddy.”  
  
Chuck rolled his eyes. “This is one of those times where that’s actually true.”  
  
Pierre leaned back against the chair placing his hands behind his head. “Indeed.”  
  
The drummer shivered rubbing his hands against his jeans. “Well...I think...” He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “I’m gonna go...lots to think about...”  
  
Pierre nodded in agreement.  
  
Chuck looked at his two friends. “I don’t think we should tell the others just yet. I need to think about how this might...affect them.”  
  
Pat traced the tips of his fingers across his thigh, smiling weakly. “Yeah, wise move.”  
  
Chuck smiled back the expression just as cautious. Standing and pocketing his phone, the drummer headed for the stairs and disappeared up them. Pat sighed and glanced at Pierre.  
  
The vampire sat staring at a spot on the floor. The Were reached over and clapped a hand to his shoulder.  
  
Pierre trembled and lifted his head to stare at his friend. “We shouldn’t tell them about Avenged...”  
  
Pat shook his head, then chewed on his bottom lip. “He asked about Lachelle.”  
  
Pierre stiffened, expression going blank. Pat saw this recognising that his friend was withdrawing back into his base nature. It was a mask hiding his emotions.  
  
Sighing, he stood looking down at the singer. “I’m going to go have a look at those new Role Model designs. Wanna come with?”  
  
Pierre shook his head resting his head back against the wall. “Nah...just going to sit here for a bit.”  
  
“Okay. Well...” Pat paused. “Stay here then, ‘kay?”  
  
Pierre nodded, closing his eyes. His friend turned and walked off the bus again, looking back once before vanishing into thin air.


	24. Bleeding heart's loss

_**Somewhere in TO  
  
7 PM**_  
  
Sherry huddled in the shadows down an alley, head tucked down between her knees, tears trickling from her eyes. Sobbing softly, her heart ached, pain lancing through her soul. What she hoped would never happen had occurred. The master vampire had corrupted her only child.  
  
Pierre was a walking nightmare and the thought that the same evil that resided in the cold black heart of Shadows’ moved in her son’s soul, broke her heart.  
  
Whimpering, she lifted her head the moon reflected in her shimmering sable eyes. The great orb was beginning to wane; however, it held ghostly promises as it hovered in the heavens.  
  
She squeezed her eyes shut once more shivering, smoothing her hands up and down her arms.  
  
After awhile she felt a chill breeze floating down the alley. The blouse she wore was thin and would not afford her much protection from the drop in temperature that was bound to come as the night deepened.  
  
So, she stood and stepped out into the middle of the alley, of the mind to find a warmer place to hide.  
  
However, that was not to be.  
  
Her heart froze in her chest, throat seizing up, as a dark shadow loomed across her field of vision, blocking out all light. Sherry stumbled back as a familiar figure materialised in front of her, huge and menacing.  
  
“Well, well, well...here we are...” The master vampire drawled coldly as he stared down at the female through his ever-present shades. She trembled whilst pressing back against the damp wall, swallowing hard, her eyes wide in fear.  
  
“M-M-Matthew...” she stuttered, terrified.  
  
He chuckled low stepping closer, removing his shades and hooking them at the neck of his muscle shirt. “Serena...did you really think you’d get away from me?”  
  
Sherry lifted her chin slightly but kept her eyes lowered. Biting hard at her bottom lip she figured if she didn’t respond perhaps then he would leave be. Seconds later a strangled cry of pain and fear escaped her lips as Shadows clamped a large hand to her slender throat.  
  
He leaned in close, stroking the pad of his thumb along the pulsating line of her jugular. She whimpered lifting a hand to clutch uselessly at his thick wrist.  
  
He licked his lips and whispered softly in her ear as he traced the tip of his left fang against her cheek. “I should drain you dry, sweet cheeks.” He smiled cruelly, “But, then I guess that’d put me in the shits with Johnny, hmm?”  
  
Sherry blinked meeting Shadows hard gaze.  
  
“Oh, you needn’t think he betrayed you to me. He is still disgustingly loyal to you.”  
  
The female whimpered and mouthed desperately against the master’s harsh grip. “Johnny...loyal to...you...”  
  
Shadows snarled, “Not as much as he is to you, female.”  
  
His fingers tightened around her neck. Sherry dug her nails into his wrist a soft whine issuing from her mouth. Shadows hissed viciously and threw her sideways across the alley.  
  
She cried out as she hit the ground landing on her left shoulder. He stalked toward her fury blazing hot in his eyes.  
  
Sherry whimpered and tried to move away feeling a searing pain shoot down her arm. He had broken something. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.  
  
Cowering on the ground she tried to shield her body from the master vampire’s rage. “Matthew...please...”  
  
Shadows paused for a moment gaze narrowed on her shivering form. He prowled forward then dropped to his haunches in front of her. “Tell me, female. Should I let you live? Or should I kill you?”  
  
Sherry sobbed softly, tears rolling in large drops down her face. Shaking her head she tucked her chin into her chest. “Please...I don’t want to die, sire.”  
  
Shadows felt a tingle at the back of his neck at the way she addressed him. It had been a long time.  
  
He shifted his weight bracing his hands against his knees. “Well, then perhaps I should find someone else to direct my anger at. Hmm? Want to pick a victim for me?”  
  
Sherry’s head jerked up, pupils dilating, looking like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a car.  
  
Shadows leaned forward ignoring the evident pain in her expression. “You see, this isn’t just about you Serena. Our son is now in the mix.”  
  
“No...”  
  
Her protest went unnoticed as the master vampire continued. “Johnny was s’posed to bring Pierre to me. And you, but he failed on both counts.” Shadows shuffled closer to her grabbing the front of her blouse and pulling her up so her nose was pressed close to his. “Let me tell you, I should kill him for failing me. But, I won’t, but not for your sake.”  
  
Sherry’s eyelids flipped up and she stared hard at him her eyes suddenly clear and focused. “No. You do it because he is family.”  
  
Shadows stiffened and cast her away from him backing up fast slamming back against the wall of the alley staring furiously at her.  
  
He spat out roughly, “How the fuck did you know about that, female?”  
  
Sherry braced her left arm feeling that it had now broken in two places, it would be a bitch to heal, but she would survive.  
  
Lifting her head she met the male’s savage glare. “She told...me...”  
  
“She?” Shadows frowned, confusion appearing on his face.  
  
Sherry breathed deeply. “Luna...your sister.”  
  
Even through her pain, Sherry knew it would not be wise to divulge the knowledge that it was Johnny Luna had told, not her. She had been there, but it was Johnny the younger vampire had been speaking to. Shadows was not easily shocked but this was one thing he had not expected to hear.  
  
“Luna...” He hissed softly, but then shook his head the surprise fading from his face being replaced by an expression so calm, yet so brutal that it sent shockwaves of terror through Sherry’s body.  
  
“Matthew...?”  
  
Shadows spoke over her plaintive voice, as if she wasn’t really there, glossing over what she had just revealed. “Talking of family. Pierre is  _my_  son. And, I want him under my control. But, you see...he doesn’t seem to want to belong to me. So, I’m going to have to do something drastic to get him to come running to my open arms.”  
  
He looked down at the only female who had ever attracted his attention enough for him to want to impregnate her. No other female before or after had the same effect on him.  
  
Even what he had done to Pierre’s girl was nothing more than a control thing. He definitely didn’t want a human bearing his offspring.  
  
“So,” he went on, “want me to tell you what I think I should do, my dear?”  
  
Sherry shook her head trembling, her skin was pale and clammy, the pain of her broken limb distracting her from the master vampire’s monologue.  
  
He crouched back down to her level. “You remember the family you left him with, Serena?”  
  
A jolt of horror surged through her veins. “God...no...leave them out of this-”  
  
Shadows continued as if she had never interrupted. “His ‘brother’, Jay...is dying from cancer. Thought perhaps I should put the poor bastard out of his misery.”  
  
“ _No_!” Sherry dragged herself forward and latched onto Shadows’ left foot, staring up at him imploringly. “Nothing good will come of that, my lord...it won’t give you what you want...Pierre will never-”  
  
The master vampire kicked her back with a sneer. “We will see, female. We will see.”  
  
“No...” Sherry cried weakly, more tears forming at the corners of her eyes and spilling over the curves of her cheeks. “No...Matthew...don’t do this...you can’t...”  
  
Shadows snorted. “I told you, this is his destiny...I just need to give him a jumpstart.” He seized strands of her long black hair and lifted her head up sharply. “And you get front row seats to everything that happens from now on.”  
  
Her eyes widened.  
  
He laughed. “Indeed. I think I’ll let you and Johnny alone so you can both watch me turn Pierre into the vampire that he is capable of being...” He dragged her to her feet, preparing to vanish from the alleyway. “First...” He chuckled in her ear, “back to Laval. Have to pay the Bouvier’s a little visit.”  
  
 _ **Bouvier Residence  
  
7:59 PM**_  
  
Louise sat by her middle son’s bed in silence. Jay was curled on his right side, arms tucked into his chest, left hand clasped loosely beneath his cheek. His right hand was curled loosely around his cell phone which was tucked against his left forearm. His black hair fell lank across his damp forehead and he shifted restlessly a light moan escaping his lips every minute or so.  
  
 _Son...why...why does this have to happen to you?_  Louise was trying to remain strong for him; however, it was so difficult. Doctor Le Millereux had explained that due to the aggressiveness of the cancer this time round, that all he could suggest was that they make Jay as comfortable as possible.  
  
The good doctor could not say how long he had left, but Louise hoped that Jay would hang on until at least Pierre returned from his tour.  
  
She sighed and glanced at Jay for what felt like the millionth time since he had fallen asleep an hour ago. He was not in a deep sleep, and was obviously in a lot of discomfit, even after all her efforts to make sure his pillow was fluffed up and that he wasn’t covered with too many blankets.  
  
Tears filled her eyes and she wiped at them furiously. She hated feeling this way, helpless, useless to do anything, it was driving her mad.  
  
Sitting their quietly watching as the glowing green numbers flipped over on the digital clock, she stiffened as her mother’s intuition suddenly kicked in. Someone was watching them. She stood from the chair she was sitting in and swung around fast.  
  
There looming in the shadows was a large figure, it held still for a moment then stepped out into the dim light of the lamp on the nightstand.  
  
Louise gasped; the figure was a giant of a man, easily over six feet tall and built. His arms, which were heavily tattooed, were thick with muscle and he held his body as if very sure of the power that he wielded.  
  
“What? Who are you? How did you get in here?” Louise spoke forcefully; as a mother she could be extremely protective. The man smirked, lips pulling back from two massive fangs.  
  
Louise shivered. “ _Vampire_...”  
  
“Indeed.” Shadows turned his head to look at Jay’s slumbering form. “So, this your son, Louise Bouvier?”  
  
She tensed grabbing the back of her chair tightly. “How do you know my name?”  
  
The male glanced back at her. “You’re Pierre’s...foster mom.”  
  
Louise quivered, “I am Pierre’s Mom.”  
  
The master vampire heard the capitalisation of the term ‘mom’ in the female’s voice and smirked icily. “No, Louise. This is Pierre’s mother.” He flicked his eyes to the side and a tiny woman with long black hair appeared next to him. Tears were streaming down her face and she was swallowing rapidly; hand pressed to her throat as if she were attempting to work at an obstruction there.  
  
Louise stared at her meeting deep brown eyes that were so much like Pierre’s. “Serena...”  
  
Shadows chuckled making her disappear once more. “Indeed,” he repeated, voice drawling lazily.  
  
He returned his attention back to Jay and walked over to stand by the bed, toying absently with a fang. Louise made to object but found that her voice had locked inside her. Her eyes widened fear gripping her heart.  
  
Whoever this man -- vampire -- was he meant to cause harm to her son. Not just to Jay, but Pierre as well. She fought against the block on her throat, questions railing through her mind.  
  
The vampire looked at her askance. “Ask your questions, female. I can still hear them.”  
  
Louise’s breasts heaved as she clutched tighter at the back of the chair. Even though her mouth and voice weren’t working, her mind rang out clear as a bell.  _Who are you?_  
  
“Your worst nightmare.” He leaned over Jay’s weak, useless body and rested the palm of his hand against his neck, feeling the weak pulsing of his blood.  
  
 _Leave him alone..._  
  
Shadows met Louise’s fearful, yet angry gaze, smirking slightly. “No can do, Louise. You took my son from me. So, I’m just returning the favour.”  
  
Louise’s eyes widened in shock, as an awful realisation dawned on her.  _What? No..._  
  
The vampire turned away from her, freezing her mind and body with a thought before leaning down and without a sound sinking his fangs into Jay’s throat, closing them on his windpipe and spinal cord. Then with a savage twist of his head, he ripped his throat out blood flowing, thick and red.  
  
Moments later, Louise could hear a horrible screaming pounding at her brain. The vampire vanished from the bedroom as the bloodcurdling scream kept on going.  
  
It wasn’t until her eldest son and husband burst through the bedroom door, the former going to the bed, the latter pulling her into his arms, that she realised that it was her voice that was making that terrible sound.  
  
She crumpled into Rèal’s body heaving sobs forced out by her anguished cries.  
  
“Fuck...fuck...” Jon stared at his brother’s ravaged neck then grabbed the blankets and yanked them over so he couldn’t see him anymore. The sight sickened him to his stomach and he was afraid it would make him hurl. Tugging his cell phone from his pocket he made to call 911.  
  
His dad noticed though and groaned. “Call your brother first.”  
  
Jon blinked. “What?”  
  
“There is nothing anyone can do...just call Pierre.”  
  
“But, Dad...”  
  
Rèal’s tone took on a steely edge, “Jon. Do not argue with me, just call him.”  
  
The eldest Bouvier son complied hitting his brother’s number on speed dial. “God, please let him pickup...oh...Pierre? Uh...it’s Jon... Yeah...it’s...um...it’s about Jay...”  
  
 _ **Simple Plan Bus  
  
7:17 PM**_  
  
David and Chuck were on the upper level of the bus playing poker when a sickening sound came from beneath them on the lower level. Jeff bolted out of his bunk as did Seb as a cry that sounded like a mix between a howl and a roar filled the whole bus, causing the hair on the back of their necks to stand out.  
  
“Holy shit...” The bassist was the first to scramble for the stairs. The others followed him to the lower level and peered down the aisle to the end of the bus where Chuck had left Pierre and Pat couple of hours earlier.  
  
Four pairs of eyes widened in shock. Pierre was on his knees in the middle of the aisle; his cell phone was on the floor in front of him.  
  
However, that was not what the four men were staring at. No, what had caused their stunned mullet expressions was the fact that the singer’s whole body was glowing feverishly. A deep red light was spilling from his eyes and enveloping his whole frame.  
  
He looked as if he were in pain; his body was quaking like he was being shaken by something on the inside, and a low snarling sound was coming from his throat.  
  
“Tabernac...what the hell?” David blinked rapidly, “What the fuck is that?”  
  
They all looked at each other then at Chuck who they obviously thought might have some idea. The drummer shrugged; even though he had an odd feeling it had something to do with his friend being a vampire. Still it didn’t explain why Pierre seemed so upset. Something must have set him off.  
  
He lifted his head at that moment as if sensing they were watching him. His eyes flared as they met Chuck’s for an instant then he vanished right in front of the others’ shocked faces, a blast of energy the only thing left as he faded from sight.  
  
“Holy fuck!” David stumbled toward the spot their friend had been kneeling. “Where’d he go? He just...?”  
  
The bassist bent down to pick up Pierre’s phone and all four men recognised Jon’s voice yelling at the other end of the line.  _“Pierre! Pierre! Pierre?? Are you still there...? Don’t do anything stupid...Pierre???”_  
  
David glanced frantically at Chuck.  
  
The drummer took the phone from him and spoke into it. “Jon, it’s Chuck...”  
  
 _“Oh, God...Chuck...where’d Pierre go?”_  
  
“Um...he just...disappeared...we’ll go look for him though.”  
  
Jon breathed heavily on the other end.  _“Yeah, do that...um...he needs to come home as soon as he can...Jay...well...ugh fuck...just tell him to come home.”_  
  
Chuck kneaded at his forehead. “Will do, Jon. Take care, ‘kay?” He hung up and looked at his friends. They all stared back at him expectantly. The drummer groaned, rubbing at his temples. “Look, I think we’d better split up-”  
  
He was cut off by Pat who had just entered the bus. “Don’t bother. I know where Pierre’s gone to, and I think you’d better leave him alone.”  
  
David turned on him and glared angrily at him. “Why? He’s obviously in a bad way...something’s happened to Jay, or so Jon said, right, Chuck?”  
  
Chuck nodded and glowered at Pat. “He shouldn’t be out there by himself.”  
  
Pat met his friend’s stare and folded his arms. “He’s an adult, Chuck; he can take care of himself.”  
  
The drummer opened his mouth to make a retort. Pat fixed him with a cold look, eyes narrowing slightly before speaking silently.  _Pierre is angry...and you do not want to get in the way of an angry vampire, Charles._  
  
That shut Chuck up. He took a step back dragging his fingers through his hair. “Right...guys...early night...we need to be up for an early start tomorrow.”  
  
Jeff grimaced, “What about Pierre?”  
  
The drummer sighed. “Pat’s right. Pierre can look out for himself. He’ll be back.”  
  
David started to argue, Pat looked over at him, manipulating his mind in silence. The bassist got a confused look on his face as if he had suddenly forgotten what he was talking about.  
  
Seb, who had kept out of the whole thing, keeping relatively quiet, just gave Chuck a quizzical look, then complied and went back up the stairs.  
  
Jeff sighed shaking his head anxiety evident in his eyes. He looked hard at Pat. “He shouldn’t be out there.”  
  
Pat gritted his teeth. “Go to bed...I’ll go after him if that’ll make you feel better.”  
  
“It’s not even eight yet.”  
  
The Were pinched the bridge of his nose feeling a migraine coming on. “Jeff...just go play your guitar or something. I’ll go after Pierre, bring him back.”  
  
The bald guitarist relented, nodding and walked away to the back lounge shutting himself away. Moments later, the soft strains of an acoustic refrain filled the bus, the lilting melody easing the men’s minds.  
  
Pat stood for a moment allowing the music to calm his soul before he set off to find Pierre before the other male completely lost it. He could only hope he wasn’t too late to divert a disaster. Because, as he had told Chuck, an angry vampire was a creature you never wanted to cross.  
  
Ever.


	25. Aftershock...

_**Somewhere in TO  
  
7:50 PM**_  
  
The hair on the back of Johnny’s neck prickled uncomfortably. He swung his head around. He had lost Serena, unable to find her after she had vanished on him and Pierre at the bar.  
  
He felt a surge of vicious energy twist in the atmosphere close by, his head swinging back in the opposite direction. His eyes widened just as Pierre materialised directly in his line of vision.  
  
“ _Christ_...” He was snarling low, eyes burning a deep, blood red. Anger gleamed in their deadly depths.  
  
Johnny backed up absently clutching at the front of his shirt. “Pierre? What the hell?”  
  
The vampire stalked toward the Were, body trembling in rage. “Where the fuck is Matt?”  
  
Johnny shook his head, biting at his bottom lip. “I don’t know...why?”  
  
Pierre growled in frustration, but gave no answer just turning on his heel and prowling along the deserted side street. The smaller male watched after him, bemused. Thoughts flew rapidly around his mind as he wondered why Pierre would be looking for the master vampire.  
  
Pierre halted and came back staring down at the smaller male. “You want to know why?”  
  
Johnny jumped slightly. “Jeeze, scare a wolf why don’t you?”  
  
Pierre actually had the grace to flush pink. “Sorry.”  
  
The Were tilted his head slightly, smiling inwardly.  _Well, there’s a good sign...he still has a sense of humility..._  “And, yeah I do want to know why you’re looking for Shads.”  
  
Pierre stared hard at him as if gauging his sincerity. Then he sighed and sank onto his haunches. Johnny crouched down so they were on a level. He peered up into the vampire’s deep black eyes?  
  
“ _Your eyes_...”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
Johnny grabbed his head. “They’ve gone black!”  
  
Pierre’s pupils dilated as he jerked away roughly and stalked along the street until he stopped in front of a shop window and leaned in to stare into his eyes. “Crap...” He swung around to the Were who had followed him. “What the hell does this mean, Johnny?”  
  
Johnny swallowed hard, a thought coming to his mind, one that he didn’t want to think on. “Pierre...what did Matthew do...”  
  
“What the fuck does that-”  
  
“ _Pierre. What did he do??_ ”  
  
Pierre was taken aback by the forcefulness of the Were’s voice but he decided to answer. He kept his answer brief, voice clipped. “He killed Jay.”  
  
Johnny gulped and stood abruptly glancing down the street. “I need to get you out of here, Pierre. You’re about to lose control, and you don’t want...humans to see this.”  
  
Pierre scowled. “How do you know this?”  
  
Johnny scanned the street making sure no one was around whilst answering. “Your eyes, Pierre.”  
  
“Oh...” Pierre shivered, the muscles in his body tightening. “Where to then?”  
  
Johnny shook his head, grabbed Pierre’s arm and vanished them without a sound.  
  
* * * * *  
  
A waning moon shone down upon the streets of Toronto. In an alleyway a huge wolf sprang up on top of a dumpster and pawed roughly at the lid; dropping its nose to the top and snuffling. It caught a scent and snarled, jumping down. Landing deftly on all four paws it trotted to the end of the alley and yipped low.  
  
Another even larger wolf joined it and growled softly.  _Any luck, Patrick?_  
  
The slightly smaller wolf rumbled, the bristles at his throat twitching.  _Serena was here, Dad...and so was Shadows..._  
  
The alpha male snarled low.  _That vampire..._  
  
Pat put his head down to sniff at the scuff marks in the dirt. Then he sat back on his haunches, pointing his muzzle to the sky letting out a howl.  
  
Then he sprang back up on the dumpster.  _We’ll have no luck finding Shads...but I know where Pierre will go...that is...if Johnny found him in time._  
  
Alpha’s ears pricked up and he whipped his head around. His lips peeled back from huge white teeth.  
  
Pat flagged his tail the fur bristling along its length.  _What is it?_  
  
Alpha snarled circling swiftly then he took off at a run, claws skittering against the bitumen. Pat cocked his head to the side ears twitching. Then he trotted after his father, fur bristling in anticipation.  
  
As the elder Were wound his ways down the backstreets of Toronto into the older region of the city, the atmosphere seemed to darken. Pat shivered in his wolf’s skin, tongue lolling between his front canines as he sprinted to keep up.  
  
The buildings on either side of the two Weres began to look dilapidated, out of date, almost ancient. The musky scent of uninhabited apartments wafted toward their keen nostrils. Pat swung his head from side to side as he dropped his nose to the ground every second or so.  
  
Alpha eventually halted outside the front of an old apartment block. He scratched at the pavement then trotted to the front doors; they slid open silently and he darted in.  
  
Pat paused but then hurried forward as he heard the elder Were give a startled grunt.  _What? What is it?_  
  
Alpha reappeared in the doorway, fur bristling. Then he ran back in and back out again, obviously distressed. Pat followed but then skidded to a halt. The first thing his eyes fell upon was the smoke puffing up into the sky. And then...  
  
He growled ears flattening back against his head; right in the middle of the building where there should have been floor space was a massive crater. It was like as if a meteorite had crashed into the building incinerating everything in its path and leaving only the shell of the building frames around it.  
  
 _Holy Hell..._  Pat’s paws tingled. Alpha snarled hackles rising.  
  
The two Weres peered into the darkness; a faint glow rose from the centre of the crater, and then a weary voice spoke from close by. “It wasn’t like this when we got here.”  
  
Pat growled low.  _Johnny?_  
  
Johnny walked out of the shadows and nodded down into the crater. “Pierre’s down there. He...had a lot of anger he needed to get rid of.”  
  
Alpha rumbled in his throat, questioningly.  
  
Johnny raked his fingers through his hair. “My master...” He paused and looked away biting at his bottom lip. Then he heaved a sigh and finished the sentence. “My master killed his brother...”  
  
Pat trembled bile rising in his throat; he snarled and shook his head from side to side, tail stuck straight out behind him, waves of aggression rolling from him. But it was nothing compared to the fury that emanated from the glow in the crater. Obviously, Pierre was still extremely distressed by the circumstances.  
  
Pat leaned forward over the crater sniffing at the myriad scents drifting up, catching hold of the vampire’s distinctive caramel aroma. The smoke began to clear and Pat blinked as he found himself staring at Pierre’s cross-legged yet hovering form.  
  
 _Uh...how’re you doing that?_  
  
Pierre’s eyes smouldered, the dark irises circled with red. However, he didn’t answer the question. Instead he landed on the edge of the crater and stretched his back breathing out harshly. Then he walked toward the entrance of the shell of the building, shoulders rolling, muscles relaxed.  
  
Pat growled and padded behind him, following the vampire out onto the street. Pierre stood, neck craned back slightly, red eyes staring up at the sky. Pat sat next to him tongue lolling between his canines.  
  
Johnny walked out and stood on Pierre’s other side, arms folded. “How were you doing that?”  
  
Pierre muttered under his breath, and then smiled faintly. “Sheer will of the mind, Johnny.”  
  
The younger Were shook his head. “Shadows can’t even do that...”  
  
Pierre’s eyebrows lifted at that comment. “Interesting...”  
  
Johnny met his steely gaze and chewed at his bottom lip nervously. “Yeah...”  
  
Alpha joined them then the end of his tail twitching.  _What now, Pierre?_  
  
Pierre dragged his fingers through his hair. “I assume my family want me to go home?”  
  
Pat rumbled in his throat.  _Jon called. Said just that. But, the guys want you to come back to the bus...well...I told them I’d look for you..._  
  
Pierre groaned. Then sank down on his haunches. “I should go home first.”  
  
Johnny frowned. “All the way from here to Laval?”  
  
The vampire stared at him then snorted. “You managed.”  
  
“I guess...so you going to go now?”  
  
Pierre pressed his fingertips against the corners of his eyes then nodded glancing down at Pat and Alpha.  
  
The smaller Were growled.  _I’ll come with...never said anything about when I was going back to the bus..._  
  
Pierre scowled. “No. Go back to the guys and tell them I had to go home, because of Jay.” Pat made to protest, but the vampire glared at him. “You don’t need to tell them the truth, hell...probably not such a good idea...just tell them my parents said I needed to come home. They’ll get that.”  
  
Pat growled baring his teeth, hackles bristling. Pierre looked away, closing his eyes and breathing slowly readying to leave. His friend grumbled changing form as quickly as was possible clothes and all.  
  
“Wait.” Pat groaned faintly as he adjusted his pants and then grabbed Pierre by the shoulder.  
  
Pierre turned his head, blinking slowly. “Huh?”  
  
“What do I tell them?”  
  
Pierre closed his eyes again and trembled. “Just...tell them...Jay took a turn for the worse.” He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together. “I’ll be back before the gig tomorrow...”  
  
Pat sighed and nodded squeezing Pierre’s shoulder. Then he nodded to Alpha and Johnny, before turning and making his way back. Alpha rumbled and nudged at Johnny’s leg.  
  
The younger Were glanced at Pierre. “Be careful...Shadows could still be hanging around your home...”  
  
Pierre gave a slight nod then with a low growl he vanished.  
  
As soon as he had gone Johnny took several deep breaths and looked down at the Alpha male. “I have to get back to my band...but if Shadows...” He swallowed hard.  
  
Alpha nudged at his legs reassuringly.  _I’ll be close by..._  
  
The younger Were nodded then vanished without a word, the large wolf following him with a soft yip.  
  
 _ **Laval  
  
Bouvier Residence  
  
9:20 PM**_  
  
Doctor Le Millereux was walking out of the Bouvier home snapping his doctor’s bag shut just as Pierre materialised directly in front of him.  
  
The good doctor blinked, but then smiled grimly. “Pierre.”  
  
Pierre grimaced, eyes darkening. “Doctor...”  
  
He focused his mind to begin the process of wiping the doc’s mind but the elder male laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t mind me, Pierre...I’ve seen many things in my many years of practise.”  
  
Pierre frowned. Dr Le Millereux chuckled softly a light glint in his eyes, and then the distinct scent of  _dog_ wafted into the air around him.  
  
Pierre just stared then it dawned on him. “You’re a  _Lycan_?”  
  
“Indeed. You may not know this, but I am the doctor that told Louise and Rèal you were a vampire...”  
  
Pierre lifted his eyebrows then smirked, but then the amusement faded as he nodded to the house. “How’s...?”  
  
The doctor sighed setting his bag down on the ground. “The master vampire is still here, in Laval. So tread carefully.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “As to your family...they are all extremely distressed, particularly your elder brother, Jon. Due to the fact that he has no idea about the whole...vampire issue.”  
  
Pierre nodded. “And Jay?”  
  
Doc Le Millereux’s expression was deeply grave as he met the younger vampire’s questioning one. “There will be no bringing him back.”  
  
Pierre’s jaw tightened as white lines of fury etched along either side of his nostrils. “And you say Shadows is still in town?”  
  
“ _Oui_. I can taste his scent on the wind.”  
  
Pierre squeezed his eyes shut then opened them again. “Have the police been called?”  
  
“No. Your parents thought it best not to involve them...that would just complicate the issue.” The doctor lifted his bag and held it close to his chest, jaw clenching a little. “You should go in.” He hesitated then added softly, “Your elder brother...you should tell him the truth.”  
  
Pierre looked toward the front door his throat tight. He cleared it with a grunt and shook his hair from his eyes. “Jay...”  
  
“I’ve cleaned the wound up as much as possible...Shadows...ripped-”  
  
Pierre cut him off. “I don’t want to hear it.”  
  
Doctor Le Millereux inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Well, I must be off. Take care, Pierre.”  
  
Pierre shivered, dark eyes flashing. “And you, Doctor.”  
  
The doctor headed down the front path; Pierre walked up it to the front door. He paused at the threshold then stepped into the house. As soon as he entered he could feel the collective weight of his family’s anguish and despair.  
  
Clenching his jaw he moved along the front hallway, pausing at a large mirror that graced the wall. He glanced into it meeting his rage-filled stare. Taking several deep breaths he willed the irises of his eyes to fade back to their normal brown hue. Yet a slight tinge of red remained right around the outer rim.  
  
Concentrating on his reflection he didn’t hear as a door opened but then a voice called out to him. “Pierre? Hun, is that you?”  
  
He blinked, tearing his gaze away from the mirror. Louise stood there, tears glistening in her eyes.  
  
“Mom...” His voice came out in a hoarse croak. He cleared his throat and spoke again. “Mom.”  
  
Louise came toward him arms open; he went into them and they just hung onto each other as hard as possible. Pierre rocked slowly on his feet rubbing a hand gently over her back; she shuddered in his arms, quietly crying.  
  
As they stood there together, Rèal poked his head out of Jay’s bedroom and motioned to his younger son. “Pierre?”  
  
Pierre squeezed lightly once more then let her go, walking toward Jay’s room. With each step his heart became heavier, hardening into a lump of cold black steel. Halting in the doorway he stared toward his brother’s bed.  
  
Jon was kneeling at the foot of the bed his palms pressed lightly on the bedspread. However, Pierre ignored him. He only had eyes for Jay. The middle Bouvier lay with his eyes closed. Doctor Le Millereux had been as good as his word. He had cleaned the wound up well. No one would ever be able to guess that an  _animal_  had literally ripped his throat open. Jagged black thread stitched the wound closed, and surprisingly he looked at peace.  
  
Still, seeing Jay like that now did nothing to prevent images of Shadows tearing his throat open appearing in Pierre’s mind. Did nothing to stop the cold fury that seeped through his whole body.  
  
Jon must have sensed him at that moment because he lifted his head and looked back over his shoulder. “Bro?”  
  
“Hey.”  
  
“Um...you’re actually here...” He shook his head adding softly, “Did you see the doctor?”  
  
“Yeah, just as I got here he was leaving.”  
  
Jon swallowed hard and turned his eyes back toward Jay. “He tell you what happen?”  
  
Pierre growled low in the back of his throat, top lip peeling up slightly.  
  
Jon glanced back at him and blinked rapidly. “Uh...Pierre...your...”  
  
“They’re fangs, Jon,” Pierre interrupted, voice flat and emotionless. He licked at the tip of his left fang. “Vampire.”  
  
Jon shook his head pupils dilating. “What?”  
  
“You heard me.” Pierre entered the room and stopped next to the bed staring down at Jay’s body.  
  
Jon watched him cautiously then glanced toward the doorway where their parents stood arms around each other. “I don’t understand.” Jon looked back toward Pierre.  
  
Pierre shook his head. “I’m a vampire. Not much you need to understand, Jon.”  
  
His eldest brother stood and walked up close to him, invading his personal space. Pierre didn’t flinch, just stared back at him lifting his lips entirely away from his fangs so Jon could get a good look at them.  
  
“ _Merde_.” Jon trembled clutching at his hair.  
  
After what Doctor Le Millereux had told him, and his parents, he wasn’t actually all that shocked at the revelation, just having it confirmed to him, that vampires were actually real, well...it was surprising.  
  
Taking several deep breaths just staring at his younger brother he sorted his thoughts in his mind then he nodded to Jay’s lifeless form. “So, I guess...you know who did this?”  
  
Pierre hissed tightly in answer, voice dripping with venom. “My dearest father...Matthew Charles Sanders...Master Vampire extraordinaire...”  
  
Jon just blinked then looked toward Louise who had breathed in harshly upon hearing his name. “Isn’t he the front man of Avenged?”  
  
Pierre nodded. “But, he’s also a 2000 year old vampire, who happens to be my biological father.”  
  
Jon groaned. “So, why the hell did he...why...why Jay?”  
  
Pierre sat on the edge of the bed and ran a thumb over his belt buckle. “He wants me. He wants to...own me.” He laughed coldly, “But, if he thinks killing Jay is the right way to go about it...then he’s just a fool.”  
  
Jon scowled and sat next to him. “What do you mean: he wants you?”  
  
Pierre sighed, “Long story short...I’m his son, he wants to control me.” Shaking his head he stared down at the floor. “Obviously, for some twisted reason he thinks killing Jay will drive me to him.”  
  
“That’s a bit dense...” Jon snorted. “Why would he think that?”  
  
Pierre laughed, “Because he’s dense?”  
  
They both rolled their eyes. Then looked toward the doorway again. Louise and Rèal had left them alone.  
  
Jon sighed and cast a worried look toward Pierre. “Did you come all the way from TO?”  
  
“In the blink of an eye.”  
  
Jon tilted his head a bemused look on his face.  
  
Pierre chuckled. “Vampire thing.”  
  
“Of course...” Jon chewed at his bottom lip. “Don’t you have a gig?”  
  
Pierre shrugged. “Tomorrow. I’ll stay tonight...go back tomorrow.”  
  
Jon nodded and clapped a hand to his younger brother’s broad shoulder. “Well, then...um...” He looked to Jay’s body. “We should...call the funeral director.”  
  
Pierre nodded then unfolded his body from the bed. “He wanted to be cremated...you remember?”  
  
Jon nodded. “Come on...we’ll go talk to Mom and dad.”  
  
Pierre hesitated, glancing back at his other brother, sucking at his fangs. “Could you give me a minute?”  
  
His brother smiled gravely. “Of course. I think we’ll be out in the kitchen.”  
  
Pierre nodded then turned to kneel next to the bed, propping his chin on clasped hands, resting his elbows against the bedspread. Jon looked at his brother’s bent head for a moment then turned leaving him alone with his thoughts.


	26. Noise to the World

_**Laval  
  
Saturday May 24th, 2008  
  
Bouvier Residence  
  
9 AM**_  
  
Pierre sat in his room staring blankly at the wall along which his bed was pushed against. Above the bed were several posters. Random posters of bands Pierre had been into when he was younger.  
  
He blinked remembering the first concert he had gone to. His elder brothers had bought him tickets to see Lagwagon. Jay had been so excited because it had also been his first big gig.  
  
Pierre clenched a fist and banged it against his knee; just the mere thought of his brother set his heart to pounding viciously against his ribcage. Closing his eyes he strained to feel for any hint of the master vampire except he could not pick up anything.  
  
Perhaps the doctor had been wrong, perhaps Shadows had already returned to Toronto. If that were the case, then Pierre would probably have better luck chasing after him once  _he_  returned for the concert later that day.  
  
Sighing, he stood kicking his chair over, the thump of plastic hitting wood resounding in his skull.  
  
“Pierre?” Jon poked his head around Pierre’s bedroom door.  
  
Pierre turned his head and grimaced. “Hey...”  
  
“The funeral director called back.”  
  
Pierre frowned. “What did he say?”  
  
“Well, if we want to get Jay cremated Mom and Dad have to sign the papers. They asked me to ask you if-”  
  
“Yes.” Pierre’s answer was abrupt. “Tell them it’s fine with me.” He paused. “I want to keep the ashes though.”  
  
Jon lifted an eyebrow. His younger brother dismissed him with a wave of his hand as he righted his chair and sank down on it again, disappearing into his thoughts.  
  
Jon sighed and went out to the kitchen and looked at his Dad who tilted his head at him.  
  
“What did he say?”  
  
“Do it. But he wants to keep the ashes.”  
  
A strange expression appeared on Rèal’s face but he acquiesced, lifting the phone of its hook and dialling the funeral director’s number.  
  
Louise looked bemused. “Did he say why?”  
  
Jon shrugged, “No. He just said he wanted to keep them. And I wasn’t going to say no to that. Plenty of people do that.”  
  
“True.” Louise went to the oven and checked the pie she had made for lunch. It was still early; however, she had needed to do something to occupy her time when she had first awoken. “Will Pierre be staying for lunch?”  
  
Jon pushed away from the kitchen bench. “I’ll go ask.” He glanced at Rèal who had finished on the phone. “Dad?”  
  
“The director said someone would be around soon to pick up Jay’s body. We have to give them the Death certificate that Dr Le Millereux wrote out.”  
  
Jon sighed absently adjusting the shirt he was wearing. “I’ll let Pierre know.”  
  
His parents nodded; then he turned and walked back out of the kitchen and headed down the corridor to his brother’s room. He halted outside the shut door wondering for a split second why it was even closed. He rapped on it lightly, again wondering vaguely why he was bothering. He never usually worried about knocking.  
  
“Come in...” Pierre’s voice was muffled. Jon pushed open the door and poked his head around it. His younger brother was lying on the floor on his back, pillow pulled over his face, moving up and down while he breathed. So, that was why his voice had been subdued.  
  
“Uh? Bro, what’re you doing?”  
  
Pierre removed the pillow and looked up at Jon. “Nothing.” He sighed and sat up stretching his back and arms before standing. Then he walked over to his bed and sank down on the covers. “So...” He pressed his palm into the blankets and stared at the old frayed spread avoiding looking at his eldest brother.  
  
Jon leaned against the doorframe. “Dad says someone will be coming from the crematorium for Jay...”  
  
Pierre nodded without looking up, his focus not entirely on his brother.  
  
Jon went on. “Mom wants to know if you’ll stay for lunch?”  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes toward his elder brother. “I’d stay...but I need to...” He paused, drawing in a deep breath, allowing his eyes to flash over.  
  
Jon shivered watching as Pierre’s eyes changed hues. The red ring around the iris had begun to expand, seeping into the warm brown, white sparks flickering in the pupils.  
  
“Going after the... _vampire_?”  
  
Pierre hissed, lip curling up and revealing his fangs. Clenching a fist he pounded it against the bed spread. “Yes. I’ll fucking kill him...” A shiver of fury coursed through his veins, searing his whole body. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, but then allowed them to open meeting Jon’s worried gaze. “I will.”  
  
Jon shook his head, smiling faintly. “I don’t doubt that. So, you’ll be leaving?”  
  
Pierre stood. “Yeah...could you tell Mom and Dad I love them...I would, but I need to leave now.” He tilted his head, nostrils flaring. “I want to catch up to Shadows...before I have to be back with the band.”  
  
Jon sighed. “Would it be pointless for me to tell you to be careful?”  
  
Pierre lifted his head and looked his brother dead in the eyes. “I think I can handle him.”  
  
He flopped back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling for a long moment. Jon stayed in the doorway watching him. After several silent minutes, the only sound in the room their soft breaths, Pierre sat up once more, ran his fingers through his hair, and then with one last look at his elder brother, closed his eyes and faded from the room.  
  
 _ **Somewhere...  
  
10 AM**_  
  
Light filtered through the heavily laden branches of a large oak tree. Shadows had taken himself, and the female, off to one of the smaller parks in Laval and was lounging up in the high beams observing the people passing by. Sherry sat at the base of the huge tree arms wrapped around her knees, head tucked down.  
  
The master vampire had warned her not to try and run from him. At any rate, she wouldn’t have dared risk angering him. He had made it absolutely clear what he would do to her if she even thought of escaping him.  
  
She sighed softly and glanced up at Shadows.  
  
He met her tentative stare and flashed a cold smile her way. “Our son will be here any moment now.”  
  
Sherry shivered biting at her bottom lip. She fervently hoped that whatever trap the master vampire had set for their son would fail. She had no idea, and neither did Shadows, that Pierre would not fall for the master vampire’s dirty tricks. Pierre had more sense than that. However, that would not negate the statement that Shadows had just made.  
  
Pierre was very close by, and Sherry suddenly caught the whiff of caramel that was distinctly their son’s scent. She had only just realised that this was indeed the younger vampire’s unique mark, the first real hint of his scent had been at the Bouvier’s residence [even though he hadn’t been there at the time], but it was now very obvious. It permeated the atmosphere and then there was a soft pop, several metres from where she sat.  
  
Shadows growled and dropped down from the tree landing in front of her and glowering toward the source of the sound. He sensed almost instinctively that his original plan of gaining Pierre’s submission was not going to work; he could smell the red hot rage boiling in the other vampire’s blood.  
  
Pierre stood there eyes narrowed, body tensed, every muscle in his body coiled tight as the strings on a guitar. He stepped toward the larger male and hissed low, lips peeling back from his fangs.  
  
“Sanders...” His voice came out in a low snarl.  
  
Shadows folded his arms standing with his legs spread, feet planted solidly on the ground.  
  
His gaze was concealed by his aviators; however, his intent was clear by the sneer on his lips. “Come about your brother, Bouvier?”  
  
Pierre spat savagely in answer. “I should rip you to pieces for that, you motherfucking prick.”  
  
The master vampire chuckled cruelly. “It won’t do you any good, Pierre. Anyway, I did the poor bastard a favour. He was going to die anyway from his cancer, so why prolong the inevitable?”  
  
Pierre clenched his fists and gritted out harshly, “Fuck you, Matt. I never even got to say goodbye.”  
  
Shadows snorted in disgust. "You’re too fuckin’ soft, Pierre. Toughen up. You’re a fuckin’ vampire; you shouldn’t give a rat’s arse about those fuckin’ humans.”  
  
The younger male growled and lunged at Shadows. The master vampire met him fast, planting big hands against Pierre’s shoulders, holding him back easily.  
  
Pierre shuddered bracing forward against Shadows’ grasp. “Bastard...I should rip you apart...”  
  
The master vampire laughed shaking his head. “Don’t be stupid, Bouvier. You can’t fight me and hope to win. I  _own_  you.”  
  
Pierre snarled in response, eyes flashing over red. There was no way he would submit to that fact. Shadows would  _never_  own him. He was his own person, and added to that was the fact that Shadows did not realise that Pierre knew the full truth of his parentage.  
  
The master vampire had no inkling that Pierre knew  _he_  was his father. If he had known he could have used that against him, but Pierre wasn’t planning to reveal that he knew the master vampire’s secret.  
  
Meanwhile, Sherry watched the two big males from where she remained huddled against the tree. Her eyes darted between her son and the master, fear evident in her expression.  
  
Shadows pushed Pierre back. Pierre ground his teeth together, but then allowed his gaze to slip passed Shadows to the female watching them.  
  
He hesitated staring at her then glancing back at the other male. “My mother...” Pierre frowned, a big question mark hovering in the air between them.  
  
The big tattooed male folded his arms across his chest, nodding slightly. “She belongs to me. And she understands her place. Unlike you.” Shadows leered coldly. “But, you  _will_  learn.”  
  
Pierre clenched his jaw thinking silently to himself. If you mean that I will learn that you’re my father... He rolled his eyes once again looking toward Sherry. She lifted her head and he trembled at the fear and hopelessness in her deep brown eyes.  
  
He tore his gaze away and glared angrily at Shadows. “You fuck. I’ll kill you for this.”  
  
Shadows threw his head back and laughed long and loud.  
  
Pierre stared incredulously at him. “I’m serious.”  
  
The master vampire just kept laughing, then without another word, seized Sherry by a clump of hair and vanished. His last thoughts voiced in a cold rush in Pierre’s mind.  _You’ll have to catch me first, Bouvier..._  
  
Pierre let out a cry of fury, clutching at his hair feeling an outbreak of sweat soaking through the white T-shirt he was wearing. Swinging around he grabbed a low hanging branch and tore it away from the tree with a hiss and furiously swatted at the air for a moment before realising how stupid he must look to anyone passing by.  
  
Dropping the branch he sank to a crouch and buried his face in his hands. There was no time for him to go after Matthew; he needed to get back to Toronto...join the rest of the band...do sound check and all those other things a member of a band needed to do before a big gig.  
  
He had no real idea how he was going to cope; along with thoughts of his brother, he had to contend with the ice cold rage coursing through his veins. All he really wanted to do was kill someone.  
  
The blood lust in his mind was demanding he feed his wrath. And, he knew without a doubt if he couldn’t go after his intended target it would be another innocent victim who would be caught in his web.  
  
Groaning, he came to a decision, one he knew that would most likely cause more problems rather than solve them. However, he saw no way around it. Shutting his eyes, he breathed out roughly and dematerialised from the park, making a beeline directly back to the Simple Plan bus...  
  
 _ **Toronto  
  
Simple Plan Bus  
  
Noon**_  
  
“No, David. Mom and Dad told me to come back for the gig. There’s really nothing I can do. They’re just trying to keep Jay comfortable. Can we not talk about it?”  
  
The bassist was badgering Pierre about why he had bothered to come back to the bus. The singer was in no mood to entertain his friend, but knew that shutting him down was pointless.  
  
David folded his arms and pouted. “If it were  _my_  brother, I’d cancel everything and stay at home with him.”  
  
Pierre looked up, cocking an eyebrow. “You don’t have a brother.”  
  
The bassist snorted. “Well, if it were my sister.” He flapped a hand. “You know what I mean.”  
  
Pierre mumbled, “Unfortunately.”  
  
Pat, who had spent the time from when he had returned to the bus the day before until Pierre had reappeared attempting to fend off all the questions from the rest of the band, looked up from the salad he was trying to consume. Seb was sitting next to him and stealing the cherry tomatoes that were on top of the salad.  
  
“David, leave him alone.”  
  
David rolled his eyes. “Why, Pat?”  
  
Pat shook his head. “Just...” He sighed, and looked back at his salad, grimacing. “Oi...Seb. Where’re the tomatoes?  
  
Seb laughed and gave an innocent little smile. “What tomatoes?”  
  
“The ones you ate,” Pierre muttered as he stood, pushed passed David and headed for the top level.  
  
Chuck was coming down just as the singer went up and he caught hold of his friend’s arm and spoke to him in a low tone. “What really happened, Pierre?”  
  
Pierre paused and met his friend’s worried look.  
  
He shook his head and mumbled softly. “Don’t wanna talk about it...just...” He pulled his arm away and kept going up the stairs.  
  
The drummer watched him go then sighed and joined the rest of the guys sitting around the small dining table.  
  
David grumbled as Chuck sat next to Pat. “I still wanna know what happened to Lachelle. She just...left.”  
  
Pat grimaced; Chuck looked at him. “You know, don’t you?”  
  
The Were sighed heavily. “Yeah. But...maybe you should call her if you want to know.”  
  
David blinked then grinned widely. “Oh, I never thought of that!”  
  
Pat rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s because you don’t think.”  
  
Chuck laughed, “Said with all the love in the world.”  
  
“Of course,” Pat smirked faintly.  
  
David sniffed, jumped up and dashed up the stairs to the top level. Pierre who was climbing into his bunk to get a bit of shut eye, halted and watched as the bassist scrambled for his own bunk and dragged out everything and rummaged about. Seconds later, David grabbed his phone gave a loud triumphant yell then raced back down the stairs.  
  
Pierre blinked, shook his head and pulled his blanket over his head, dropping off in seconds the thought that he was still extremely exhausted over the past days’ events the last thing that flashed through his mind.  
  
 _ **Palladium Arena  
  
2 PM**_  
  
Pierre stalked the backstage corridors deep in thought. These early matinee gigs were a little more hectic than the night shows. He never could understand why that was.  
  
Perhaps it was due to the fact that fans began to line up to get decent positions in the moshpit early in the morning. When the band had arrived at the stadium there was already a long line of teenagers waiting for the doors to be opened.  
  
The throng of excited kids was really getting to Pierre’s senses. His rage was still up and surging through his body, controlling his actions. So, he had gotten off the stage as fast as he could once he had set his levels and gone for a wander hoping to walk it off.  
  
As he passed the large door that lead from the backstage area into the main entrance foyer it cracked open slightly and myriad aromas filtered through and hit his nostrils.  
  
Pierre hissed, his fangs punching out in his mouth.  _Fuck...need to feed..._  
  
He turned his head away from the door and closed his eyes trying to feel for Patrick; however, the tantalising smell of fresh human blood forced its way into his psyche.  
  
Biting his bottom lip hard he turned, pressed a hand against the door, and then pushed it open bracing himself for the inevitable screams of excited fans.  
  
He could tolerate that, perhaps sign a few autographs, find what he was looking for then get out of there all before he needed to front for the gig.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Ten minutes before the band was due to go on stage, Pierre was out the back toothpick between his index finger and thumb, absently picking at his teeth. David leaned next to him bass clutched in his hands fiddling with his pick.  
  
Frenchie, the band’s only official tech, passed the two men and went to go out on stage to do a last minute check of all the gear.  
  
Pierre turned his head to watch him go a strange light in his eyes.  
  
David noticed the look. “What, Pierre?”  
  
The other male shrugged nonchalantly but then the hair on the back of his neck prickled. Seconds later they heard Frenchie cursing sharply in French and the door to the stage burst open and he came stumbling through, eyes wide in shock and horror. He was babbling wildly in French waving his hands around.  
  
Chuck and Pat had just arrived, and so the former went to the techie and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Frenchie? What is it?”  
  
Frenchie opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, pointing back toward the stage.  
  
He finally managed to get some words out, panting after each word, trembling in shock. “A. Girl...a...body...dead... _merde_...dead...Chuck...I...she...she was...just...there...lying...I...I almost fell over her...behind the drum kit...”  
  
Chuck froze then glanced at Pat. Without a word Pat went out onto the stage. Moments later he reappeared, expression grim, his eyes going straight to Pierre who was leaning casually against the wall still picking at his teeth.  
  
Pierre met the Were’s eyes and allowed his lip to curl slightly.  _What?  
  
You fed...I had to get rid of the body...she was fucking drained._ Pat glared at Pierre then turned to Frenchie touching him on the shoulder. “French...go back to the dressing room...get something to drink. I can handle everything back here.”  
  
The tech nodded and left the backstage area, thankful to get away.  
  
Pat turned back to Pierre who rolled his eyes slightly.  _So? I needed blood, wolf._  
  
Pat stiffened.  _Again with the not feeding from me shit, Pierre._  
  
Pierre snorted pushing away from the wall, deciding to speak out loud in response, causing the other guys to all stare at him. Even Chuck was slightly shocked, even though he already knew what Pierre and Pat were.  
  
“If I remember correctly, Langlois, you said you were done letting me feed from you.” He stalked forward toward Pat absently twisting the black tie he was wearing, the sleeves of his white shirt straining against his tensed muscles.  
  
Pat growled low eyes flashing yellow, pacing forward to meet the vampire halfway.  
  
He hissed low trying to keep the others from hearing his furious words, but knowing that he was probably failing in that, yet too mad to really care. “You asshole. You fucking son of a fucking vamp! Why a fucking... _fan_...why one of them?”  
  
Pierre licked his lips slowly, eyes going black. “She was a virgin. And her blood was so sweet...”  
  
“God damn it, Pierre.”  
  
Pierre laughed coldly. “I’m a vampire, Patrick. God doesn’t figure much.”  
  
Pat opened his mouth, but Pierre cut him off speaking louder, all his pain and anger rushing out, ignoring the stunned expression on the others’ faces. All his focus was on Patrick; the Werewolf was meeting his gaze head on as he railed at him. “I have just lost my fucking brother to a homicidal vampire who wants to control me...I am fucking tired and the only way for me to re-energise is to feed. You were fucking busy so I took the closest thing. So what if it was a fucking fan? No one’s going to know. Unless you plan on telling someone?”  
  
Pat glared at Pierre finally getting a word in edge way. “Talk about calling the kettle black. You think he’s fuckin’ homicidal? At least he hasn’t gone around killing fucking innocent virgins.”  
  
Pierre frowned. “What?”  
  
Pat shook his head a look of utter disgust in his eyes. “I know him better than you. And I can tell you he has never stooped that low...no matter how much of an evil bastard you may think he is.”  
  
“He fucking  _killed_  my  _brother_ , Patrick!”  
  
David who had been fidgeting with his pick suddenly blurted out cutting the two men off in the middle of their ranting. “What the fuck is going on??”  
  
Pierre and Pat swung their heads around finally allowing the shocked expressions on their friends’ faces to register on their consciousness. Pierre swept his gaze over them, catching Chuck’s eyes for a second. The drummer just shook his head at him and looked away, not wanting to get caught in the middle.  
  
Pierre groaned. “ _Merde_...” He ran a palm over his face and glanced at Pat a pained look in his eyes.  
  
Pat sighed and folded his arms. “I’m not telling them, Pierre.”  
  
The vampire automatically bared his fangs, the two canines elongating as he hissed viciously. “I’m not fucking saying anything.”  
  
Pat just rolled his eyes and muttered half under his breath. “You’ll have to now.”  
  
David’s face went white. “Holy fuck, Pierre...are those what I think they are?”  
  
Jeff walked close and stared at Pierre’s face. The singer grimaced and closed his jaw the tips of his fangs protruding over his bottom lip.  
  
It was Seb who voiced what they were all thinking though. “You’re a vampire.” It wasn’t quite a question.  
  
Pierre looked away and stared at the opposite wall.  
  
“Pierre?”  
  
“Yes,” Pierre snapped irritably. “I’m a fucking vampire. But, hey...we’re more common than you think we are.” He glowered at the rest of his band members then smirked jerking his chin at Pat. “And, Pat here. He’s a fucking Werewolf.”  
  
“ _Pierre!_ ” Pat snarled.  
  
Pierre just shot him a hard look then turned to walk to the stage door; Chuck followed him, so as not to get caught up in the unavoidable chaos that was likely to ensue.  
  
There was two seconds of silence and then the questions erupted from the other men as they fought to understand what the hell he was talking about. However, they weren’t going to get any clear answers because at that moment their manager appeared telling them to get their asses on stage.  
  
Pat nodded agreeing with the manager. It was time for the show to begin. Jeff, Seb and David looked at him sharply.  
  
He held up both his hands and then said so only they could hear him. “After the show...I’ll make Pierre explain everything.”  
  
They nodded, knowing that they would have to accept that. Pat hustled them toward the stage door and said ‘break a leg’ to each of them before shutting the door on them and collapsing on a seat, leaning his face in his hands and letting out a rough breath.


	27. Death becomes you

_**Avenged Sevenfold Bus  
  
5 PM**_  
  
Johnny materialised right in the middle of The Rev and Synyster trying to thrash each other at a game of Guitar Hero. The two vampires halted in their match when they sensed the Were’s arrival.  
  
Synyster turned a cold baleful glare toward the smaller male, but said nothing.  
  
The Rev frowned and set his Guitar controller on the seat beside him, unfolding his lanky frame from the chair and walking toward Johnny. “Where’ve you been?”  
  
Johnny shook his head answering with a question of his own. “Has the master returned?”  
  
The Rev bit at his bottom lip and glanced at the brown-eyed vampire. “Brian?”  
  
Syn growled low, fangs showing. “Shadows hasn’t been here. Where the fuck have you been, dog?”  
  
Johnny hesitated before answering. “I was trying to get Pierre to come back here...”  
  
The taller male lifted an eyebrow, eyes flashing from blue to grey.  _You didn’t..._  
  
Johnny looked at The Rev the expression on his face taking on a despairing cast. The vampire studied his look then without a word grabbed the Were by the scruff of his shirt and pulled him off the bus, away from the lieutenant’s disapproving gaze.  
  
Once outside he shoved the smaller male against the side of the bus and leaned in close. “What the hell happened? I sensed Pierre...losing it.”  
  
Johnny trembled, his deep brown eyes shimmering. “The master...he killed Pierre’s brother Jay...”  
  
The Rev stiffened an expression almost of surprise flashing across his features. He had not expected to hear something like that. “Fuck...” He released the Were and moved back several feet and raked fingers through his shaggy black hair. “Fuck,” he repeated incredulously. “What about Serena...did you get her to Pierre?”  
  
The Rev felt his heart tighten as he saw a painful look pass across Johnny’s eyes.  
  
The Lycan squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head a sound akin to a whimper escaping his lips. “No. I fucked that up, Rev...”  
  
Johnny’s head dropped and The Rev could’ve sworn that he saw a tear trickle down the smaller male’s face.  
  
“Johnny?”  
  
Johnny clenched his fists without opening his eyes. “Shadows has her...”  
  
The elder vampire gritted his teeth. “Damn it, Johnny...”  
  
“It wasn’t my fault, Rev. When I took her to Pierre...” He groaned shaking his head. “He didn’t realise who she was and was going to crack onto her...like those other women he attacked...and she vanished on me...” Johnny rubbed at his eyes muttering still. “Shadows must’ve picked her up from somewhere else...”  
  
The Rev pressed a hand to the smaller male’s shoulder. “Stop. I’ve heard enough.”  
  
Johnny nodded sealing his lips and lifting his head, meeting the vampire’s gaze.  
  
The Rev’s eyes flickered slightly. Then he sighed. “Well, not much we can do about that.” He tilted his head back and sucked at his tongue toying with his fangs.  
  
Johnny nodded but then stopped and glanced at him. “My...mother’s here in TO.”  
  
The Rev’s head jerked around and a strange light appeared in his eyes, the blueness overwhelming his stare. “Luna’s here?”  
  
Johnny nodded but then remembered that he couldn’t reveal where she was because then he would risk exposing the whereabouts of the Lycans in the city.  
  
The Rev sensed his sudden hesitation and smirked faintly. “Where?”  
  
Johnny bit at his bottom lip.  
  
The tall vampire sighed. “Is there somewhere I can meet her?”  
  
“Why would you want to see my mother?”  
  
The Rev smeared a hand over his face. “It’s been...a long time.” He rolled his neck. “And...I need to see her...there are things I need to speak of to her...”  
  
The Were frowned. “About Shadows?”  
  
The Rev snorted. “Possibly.”  
  
Johnny slumped against the side of the bus and stared at tuft of grass between him and the vampire. “I’ll...I’ll take you to her. If you want?”  
  
The Rev closed his eyes nodding slowly. “She might be able to do something about...all of this.”  
  
Johnny tilted his head. “You mean all the stuff with Pierre and Serena...?”  
  
The vampire’s lip lifted slightly. “Yeah. Fuck...we should try something...” He mumbled half under his breath, “Shads is not evil...”  
  
Johnny scowled at that wanting to disagree with the vampire but knowing that he was probably not meant to have heard that last comment.  
  
He shrugged his shoulders. “Come on then, we’ll go now. Nothing else to do.”  
  
The Rev stretched his arms out behind him then stepped close once more grabbing the collar of the Were’s shirt. Johnny winced slightly.  
  
 _Relax, pup...can’t let on to Syn..._  
  
Johnny growled in the back of his throat, and then with a soft blink of his eyes made them vanish.  
  
 _ **Simple Plan Bus  
  
Later**_  
  
“So, let me get this straight.” David stared hard at Pierre as the band sat around the lower level of the bus, drinking beer and nibbling on crackers.  
  
“Hmmm?” Pierre lifted an eyebrow as he lifted his bottle to his lips and took a long pull.  
  
The bassist rubbed at his left eye before folding his arms across his chest. “Your real parents are vampires, right?”  
  
Pierre nodded once.  
  
David scratched at his arm. “But...your mom abandoned you?”  
  
Pierre grimaced. “She thought it was the best thing she could do for me.”  
  
David bit his bottom lip then went on. “Your father...”  
  
Jeff interrupted sharply, “I can’t believe that Matt is actually-”  
  
“I know, right?” David snorted in disbelief.  
  
Seb agreed shaking his head. “Crazy.”  
  
“Yeah, real crazy.”  
  
Chuck remained silent just watching on, mouth drawn in a thin line.  
  
Pierre looked at the drummer with a slight frown. “Penny for your thoughts?”  
  
Chuck laughed bitterly. “They’d cost a whole sight more than a penny, Pierre.”  
  
Pierre folded his arms over his chest and waited patiently, the look in his eyes suggesting that he believed his friend’s thoughts worth the cost.  
  
Chuck sighed then glowered at his friend. “Why did Lachelle leave?”  
  
Pierre’s expression froze and he pressed his lips together in a hard line. “I caught her with Matt. He was fucking her in a back room before the Avenged gig.”  
  
“ _Merde_.” The drummer blinked slowly.  
  
David looked liked a stunned fish. “You for real?”  
  
“Yes.” Pierre looked toward the smaller man and spoke angrily. “She was enjoying it, so I dumped her. The engagement, whatever. It’s off. Over.”  
  
Jeff scowled at that statement. “Man, you two were in deep with each other though.”  
  
Pierre growled. “Doesn’t matter.”  
  
“Of course it fucking matters,” Chuck snapped. “You can’t just let one time-”  
  
“Yes, I can. Just drop it, right?” Pierre glared at the drummer, the look in his eyes telling him that the conversation was over.  
  
Chuck sighed again, standing and walking over to the side staring out the window. He paused biting at his bottom lip. The expression on his face darkened, eyes narrowing as he leaned closer to the window.  
  
“Chuck?” Pierre tilted his head to the side, all thoughts of Lachelle forgotten for the moment. The others all looked in the direction of the drummer as well, noticing his stance stiffen.  
  
“What is it, Chuck?”  
  
Jeff stood and joined him at the window. “There’s someone out there...”  
  
David jumped up and scrambled for the door, always eager to solve a mystery. He hit the button by the door, waiting for it to open with its usual rheumatic hiss. Just as he was about to poke his head out a hulking figure materialised in the shadows mere feet away from the door. David jumped back into the bus but squinted toward the shadow.  
  
He called out tentatively, “Hello?”  
  
There was no answer, but then, Pierre felt a chill race up his spine just as a low, menacing growl traversed the space between the figure and the bus. Then a distinct tang of chilli and cinnamon permeated the atmosphere, assaulting his nostrils. He hissed softly, lips peeling back involuntarily, fangs flashing.  
  
Pat, who had been sitting at the front of the bus keeping out of the discussion, fiddling with his camera, appeared suddenly to Pierre’s right a low snarling sound coming from deep in his throat.  
  
David shivered and stared at his best friend an almost fearful cast to his features. “Pierre?”  
  
Pierre ran a tongue over the tip of his fangs and lifted a hand, signalling for the others to remain where they were standing.  
  
He nodded toward the figure and glanced sideways at Pat.  _Make sure they stay here...I’m going to see..._ He didn’t finish the thought.  
  
Pat just nodded; jaw clenched tight, worry in his hazel eyes.  _Go...but be careful._  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes at the Were.  _Sure..._  
  
Pat frowned eyes darkening.  _I’m serious._  
  
Pierre rumbled in his throat but inclined his head in acknowledgement before stepping out of the bus and slowly approaching the dark figure.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The spicy scent of chilli gave way to steel and leather mingled with the overwhelming aroma of cinnamon as the two vampires approached each other. Pierre’s gaze burned as he stalked across the bitumen closing the gap between him and Shadows.  
  
The Master Vampire stepped out of the darkness revealing his towering figure to all who were watching. His eyes, for once not concealed by shades, gleamed in the dim evening light.  
  
Pierre paused, several feet away and growled low. “Shadows...”  
  
Shadows’ lips curved in a cold smile and he moved closer. Pierre felt a frosty breath of air pass around his body.  
  
He tensed, baring his fangs at the larger male. “What do you want?”  
  
Shadows crossed his arms, the leather of the black jacket he wore creaking faintly, straining across his broad shoulders. Pierre noted that the jacket looked brand new as if the other vampire had only just purchased it. Then he wondered why he had noticed something so irrelevant and shook his head hard glaring furiously at him.  
  
Shadows laughed having sensed Pierre’s thoughts. “This is an old jacket, Pierre.”  
  
Pierre just glowered at him and repeated his question. “What the fuck do you want?”  
  
The master vampire’s expression hardened. “You know what I want, Pierre Bouvier.”  
  
Pierre shivered, his skin beginning to crawl uncomfortably. He crossed his own arms tight across his chest rocking slightly on his feet. “I’ll give you nothing, Matt.”  
  
Shadows sneered flashing his fangs at Pierre. “Your mother would wish otherwise.”  
  
Pierre’s jaw tightened. “My Mom is mourning her son’s death.”  
  
The master vampire threw his head back and laughed icily. “I don’t mean your foster mother...I could care less about Louise and Rèal Bouvier.”  
  
The younger vampire swallowed hard. “You mean...?”  
  
Shadows kept laughing as he answered. “Serena Volaire...my female...my only mate...your true blood...”  
  
The colour faded from Pierre’s face as his eyes deepened to a scarlet hue. “What exactly are you trying to say?” He knew of course, but Shadows didn’t need to know that.  
  
The master vampire met Pierre’s furious stare. “Ah...should I tell you?”  
  
“Tell me what, motherfucker?”  
  
Shadows smirked at Pierre’s choice of words. “You, Pierre Charles, are my son.”  
  
For a single heartbeat the two vampires stared at each other; the younger allowing the elder’s words to sink in a confirmation of knowledge already realised; the elder waiting for the burgeoning shock and noticing in seconds that it wasn’t forthcoming. And, wondering at it.  
  
Pierre blinked once and then chuckled low. “Yeah, and that’s news because...?”  
  
Shadows’ dropped his arms to his sides, frown lines etching deep furrows in his forehead. “You...you already knew?”  
  
Pierre nodded slowly, muscles coiled in readiness watching the larger male intently.  
  
The master vampire hissed in surprise. “ _How_?”  
  
Pierre bared his fangs again. “Serena...wrote me a letter.”  
  
Shadows snarled; the temperature of the air dropped several degrees. Pierre shivered glancing back toward the bus. He could see his band mates and Pat staring through the windows toward the two of them. He shook his head and returned his gaze to the other male.  
  
“That bitch.” Shadows’ tone took on a deadly edge. “I suppose she warned you away from me.”  
  
Pierre snorted. “I’d say she was right to. She said that you were a threat to me. That you would destroy her...and use me...”  
  
Shadows gritted out harshly in response, “Oh, she is definitely right about that...I will kill her for all of this...but...I’ll make her suffer first.”  
  
Pierre stiffened. “How?”  
  
“Well, you’ve made it clear you won’t submit...so I’ll have to get rid of you. There isn’t room for two males such as you and me on this planet. And I am the Master Vampire. I can’t let you live.”  
  
The master vampire’s eyes were glowing now; vicious sparks flaring outwards from his cold stare. Rage was a cloak covering his body and Pierre sensed instinctively that Shadows would snap at any moment and that when he did all that anger would be directed at him.  
  
Shifting his weight, Pierre sank into a crouch, lips curling as he felt his fangs elongating as a surge of hunger rushed through his veins. Shadows’ body quivered eyes narrowing into slits, his fangs lengthening, with saliva glistening at the sharp tips. Then the larger male stripped his jacket off, muscles rippling across his broad shoulders as he tossed it aside.  
  
Pierre rumbled deep in his throat sensing the tension ratchet up a notch, so much so that it almost thrummed in the air: a living thing. He braced himself; and then Shadows came at him like a wild animal, teeth bared, eyes gleaming, arms reaching to seize him, tackle him.  
  
Remembering how much stronger Shadows was, the force of his attack was expected so Pierre was able to meet him with his own strong arms outstretched. The palms of his hands met the firm biceps of the bigger male, and he gripped hard straining to hold him back, tucking his head down to protect his neck.  
  
The master vampire snarled grabbing hold of Pierre’s forearms and squeezing down like a vice. Pierre gritted his teeth against the sudden pain that flowered where Shadows’ had seized on. He knew that he would bruise; knew they would heal pretty quickly. He also knew the only way Shadows could hope to kill him was with a stake to the brain.  
  
So, he lifted his head meeting Shadows’ burning stare, flashing his own fangs and clicking them together. The sharp click distracted the both of them, but then the master vampire moved in a blur with a powerful twist of his upper torso.  
  
Pierre gasped in surprise as the larger vampire jerked his body around and brought his fangs close against his throat. The fine deadly tips of Shadows’ canines scored a bloody line across his Adam’s apple. Pierre breathed out roughly sweat beading on his forehead and trickling down his face. He clutched at the bigger vampire’s arms pushing at him; but, Shadows didn’t budge, his breath hot against Pierre’s throat. The blood pulsed irregularly beneath the surface beckoning to the master vampire like a clarion call.  
  
Shadows hissed and then he bit, fangs penetrating the thin barrier separating Pierre’s life force from his savage hunger. He pulled at the fresh spicy blood that filled his mouth; the younger male’s body tensed up and then he groaned out loud as a surge of fury and power rushed through his body.  
  
And then something entirely unexpected occurred. Pierre’s heart stopped for a split second; Shadows’ own heart seized for a moment and then his head jerked back and his eyes met Pierre’s as they snapped open. Something, a spark, neither of them understood, passed between them and then the bigger male pulled away from Pierre, blowing hard, catching his breath.  
  
Pierre sank to the ground pressing his fingertips to the wound in his neck, head bowed, and his body trembling.  
  
“Shadows...” His voice rasped hoarsely.  
  
The master vampire shook his head slowly, kneading at his temples, uncertain of what had just happened.  
  
“Pierre.” His voice was low.  
  
Pierre glanced at him from the corner of his left eye. Then he turned his head away and murmured quietly. “Get out of here...”  
  
Shadows rubbed at his face. “Son...”  
  
Pierre grunted. “Just go.”  
  
Their eyes met once. Then Shadows vanished, a hint of steel and leather lingering in the cool evening air. Pierre stood for a long moment; head tilted back allowing the cool air to evaporate the sweat that covered his body. His shirt clung to his soaked torso and he breathed out roughly.  
  
Shaking his head, droplets of sweat spraying out around him, Pierre tugged his shirt off. Then he turned slowly, returning to the bus, climbing on board and walking passed his friends, ignoring the confused expressions that they wore on their faces.  
  
Exhaustion ached in every fibre of his being, right down to the marrow in his bones. So, going to the top level he crawled into his bunk, pulled his blanket over his head and drifted off to sleep.  
  
Yet even though he was so weary, so mortally tired his slumber was filled with dreams...dreams of the Master Vampire and... _Lachelle?_


	28. Echoes of Sanity

**_Sunday May 25th, 2008  
  
Santa Maria Catholic Cathedral  
  
7 AM_**  
  
Sometimes life changes for the better, and sometimes life changes for the worse. Patrick knew that this was one of the times where the change was detrimental. When he had woken and lain in his bunk, feeling out for the emotions of his friends he had sensed instantly the change in the band’s singer.  
  
Whatever had happened between the Master Vampire and Pierre the previous night had caused a shift in the singer’s soul. The blackness that had been encroaching there had now completely enveloped the vampire’s being and Pat felt a horrible sense of despair settle over him.  
  
So, that was why he found himself at all hours of the morning kneeling at a pew in a sanctuary he had never thought he would set foot in again. Patrick Langlois had been raised within the Holy Catholic Church; his parents had been devout followers of Jesus Christ and believed that he was Messiah and had died for all the peoples’ sins.  
  
Sure, one could laugh at Lycans believing in God and the Cross; Pat certainly had at times. However, when times became particularly tough he had always gravitated back to the Church. It had been his comfort in the blackest of times. But, the last time he had been in a Church was 80 years ago...the Slaughter years. It had not been needful to go otherwise.  
  
Now after the past few weeks, Pat had a terrible sense of urgency, which was drawing him to the serene peace of the Church. Yet, for the first time he was not there for his own soul. His best friend was ever on his mind. Prayers for Pierre were his priority.  
  
Several paces from where he knelt, a small alcove was positioned where he could see a small statuette placed on a pedestal. It was a figure of the Virgin Mary: The Mother of Jesus. Pat rose and walked into the alcove and sank to his knees in front of it and gazed up at her, tears in his eyes.  
  
“Holy Mother of God...” His voice cracked and he bowed his head and murmured the Hail Mary over the pale pink Rosarie beads he gripped in his right hand.  
  
After what felt like hours the solitude was broken by a soft noise. A soft laugh seemed to echo around him, over him as if it came from the little figurine.  
  
And then a quiet voice spoke. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you in such a place as this, Patrick.”  
  
Pat’s eyes opened as he lifted his head, twisting around to see who had spoken to him. He blinked as he recognised the long mahogany locks that fell over the vampire’s shoulders, contrasting with the white blouse that she wore.  
  
“Luna?”  
  
Luna inclined her head slightly.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
Pat frowned noticing that it wasn’t Luna who had spoken that time. He turned his head a little more, along with his body. The Rev was leaning back against a pew feet crossed at the ankles. A tiny frowned crinkled at his forehead otherwise there was no emotion on the tall vampire’s face.  
  
Pat grimaced and stood his back protesting slightly from the length of time he had been kneeling there. “Praying.”  
  
“Oh?” The Rev quirked an eyebrow. “For Pierre’s soul?”  
  
Pat bit at his bottom lip and averted his gaze.  
  
Luna smiled sadly. “It’s too late for that.”  
  
“No.” Pat growled glaring at her. “Every little bit helps.”  
  
“No. Because my brother sold his soul to the Devil...any soul he corrupts...will be lost forever.” Luna’s voice was tender, yet firm. “It has been the way since the late forties...”  
  
The Were shook his head in denial. “No. Not Pierre. He’s stronger than that...fuck...he has to be...”  
  
The Rev muttered faintly mindful of his location, “He’s Matthew’s son. It was too late for Pierre even before he was born.”  
  
Pat stared at him hard then looked away, jaw clenched. For several seconds none of them spoke but then Pat looked toward The Rev deciding to change the subject. “You know what I am, don’t you?”  
  
The vampire met his gaze, eyes unexpectedly warm. “You know I do, Patrick Langlois. Your clan is almost as old as mine. The ancient Lycanthrope bloodline runs in your veins.”  
  
Pat shivered and looked away. “I’m still a youngling...”  
  
The Rev chortled. “Johnny is a youngling...you...you are Cursed.”  
  
The Were stiffened.  
  
The vampire held up a hand in a placating gesture. “Never fear. Matthew doesn’t know. He doesn’t even know that you’re not fuckin’ human.”  
  
Pat sniffed. “Thank fuck for that.”  
  
Luna cocked her head and glanced at The Rev. “You seem to know so many secrets, Jimmy...”  
  
The tall male smiled sagely. “And I keep them all, Luna.” His eyes glinted wryly. “If I have any faults...that’s not one of them.”  
  
Pat said, diplomatically, “You’ve probably heard a shitload of secrets in 2400 years...”  
  
The Rev laughed. “Yeah, like...I know who you  _really_  love.”  
  
Pat blinked. “What? I have a girlfriend...Mare...she’s a Were...like me...”  
  
The Rev sobered. “Yeah, that’s well and good, but you’re not in a Church down on your knees praying to the Virgin Mary for her, are you?”  
  
The Were went very still and stared at the tall vampire feeling a chill race through his body, a sorrow as deep and black as the deepest pits of Hell filling his heart. “James...I’ve lost him, haven’t I?”  
  
Luna sighed answering for the both of them. “Not necessarily.”  
  
The Were glowered at her. “You just said a moment ago-”  
  
The female cut him off, “I know, but I’d like to think that there’s still some kind of hope.”  
  
Pat stared at her then pressed his fists to his eyes and whispered harshly to himself. “I shouldn’t have let him go out there...”  
  
The female stepped toward him and grasped his shoulders firmly. “Look at me.”  
  
Pat lifted his head slowly to meet her steady gaze.  
  
She continued voice strong. “It was his choice, Pat. He is a grown male vampire...and after what Shadows did to his brother...he had every right to confront him.”  
  
“No one was to know that it would make things worse,” The Rev stated emphatically, then after a moment roughly added, “In fact, none of us knew Matt would go at Pierre like that...that was not part of his original plan. Trying to kill Pierre...”  
  
Pat hunched his shoulders and stared at the floor. However, he did ask something that had been nagging at his mind. “How’d you find out what happened?”  
  
The Rev and Luna looked at each other; Pat could see a connection there but did not ponder it.  
  
The Rev met his questioning look. “Johnny had taken me to see Luna...and we sensed it...after the fact. I sent Johnny back to the bus...so Matt wouldn’t have an excuse to piss on him...and Luna and I decided to wait until this morning and come find you.”  
  
Luna giggled lightly. “We weren’t expecting to find you here.”  
  
Pat shrugged a sheepish grin playing across his lips. “I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go.”  
  
“Can’t blame you.” The Rev gazed up into the vaulted ceilings. “I was raised Catholic...”  
  
Luna pursed her lips. “Mattie and I were as well...but then...”  
  
Pat looked at her gently. “Devil worship?”  
  
“Matthew was tricked...but...that’s a whole other tale...” Luna brushed a hand over the black slacks she was wearing and looked at the statuette of the Virgin. “Ironic, isn’t it?”  
  
Pat lifted an eyebrow. “What is?”  
  
“You’re praying to the Virgin Mary...and Pierre’s been attacking virgins...”  
  
The Were shuddered, the hairs on the back of his neck tingling. “An unwelcome irony...”  
  
The Rev purred low. “Right...well...I hate to say this...but can we move this out of here...there’s only so much Church I can handle...”  
  
Pat huffed sharply, but shrugged. “Sure. I’m done here.” He stared unseeingly toward the arched entrance of the cathedral. “Need to get back to the band...Pierre, Chuck and I...we have a Role Model meeting...”  
  
Luna bit her lip and glanced at The Rev.  
  
The tall vampire nodded to the Were. “And Luna and I have things we need to catch up on as well.”  
  
Pat looked hard at The Rev gauging his intentions. “You and Luna...”  
  
A ghost of a smile passed across the vampire’s face. Luna placed a hand lightly against his shoulder, rubbing absently.  
  
Pat watched them a wistful expression in his hazel eyes. “You and Luna.” This time his voice didn’t trail off.  
  
The Rev chuckled low. “Indeed. Well, take care...”  
  
Pat smiled weakly as he replied. “And you.” He nodded to the female. “Both of you.”  
  
They parted ways, Luna and The Rev vanishing without a trace, Pat walking out the arched entrance into the streams of morning sunlight.  
  
He stood at the front of the Cathedral gazing up into the sky watching the little clouds scudding across the stretch of blue. Then he squared his shoulders and strode off, heading back to the bus.  
  
 _ **Simple Plan Bus  
  
9 AM**_  
  
“How many new designs?”  
  
“There’re...six new shirts...a couple of belts and wrist bands.”  
  
Pierre and Chuck were sitting on the lower level of the bus going through a folder of Role Model designs when Pat returned. The Were sank down on the seat opposite Pierre.  
  
The singer glanced up at him, lifting an eyebrow. His eyes were perceptibly darker than they had been the previous day. Shadows shifted in their impenetrable depths.  
  
Pat blinked slowly but forced himself to maintain eye contact with his friend; no matter how unsettling it was he had to remain calm. “How’s it going?”  
  
Pierre raked long fingers through his hair. “Good. Chuck and I think that all the designs are exactly where they need to be.”  
  
Chuck shifted the folder over to Pat so he could examine them. “Yeah, what’s your opinion?”  
  
Pat gave the designs a cursory glance; he already knew that the items had value and would sell. He had no worries there. He was more anxious about the state of his friend’s soul than their clothing company.  
  
“Looks great. Tell management to go ahead with it. I...um need to go get Seb...”  
  
Seb appeared at that moment clutching his laptop and a portable recording set up. “Hey, Pat...let’s go find somewhere to do this...” The young guitarist nodded to the other two men. “Sorry, Chuck...Pierre...but we need to get on air...”  
  
Chuck shrugged. Pierre’s lip curled as he stared hard at Pat; the Were looked at him then stood and hurried after the younger man.  
  
Pierre watched him go then shook his head standing. “Well, I’m gonna go for a walk.”  
  
Chuck shut the folder and nodded. “How long will you be?”  
  
Pierre shook his head again and stared out the window. “I...need to think.”  
  
The drummer frowned. “About last night?”  
  
Pierre paused for a moment considering whether to respond; then he pegged his friend with a serious expression. “I dreamed about Lachelle...”  
  
Chuck’s eyes widened. “Yeah? What exactly?”  
  
Pierre rubbed at the stubble that was growing on his jaw. “I can’t really remember.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“Yeah.” He looked away, his bottom jaw tightening slightly.  
  
He detested liars, could not stand them; but, here he was telling a big one to his best friend. The fact was that he could remember his dream vividly. It had been so real that he had a feeling it hadn’t been a dream, but a premonition of some kind or another.  
  
He had no idea how he knew that but it probably had something to do with the spark that had passed between he and Shadows the night before.  
  
Shaking his head he turned and went to the door. Punching in the code he waited for the door to slide open then stepped out of the bus into the bright morning sunlight. He blinked hard shielding his eyes from the intense rays, wondering vaguely why the light was stinging his eyes.  
  
Brushing the thought aside he walked across the parking area, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans and scanning the area, his senses on high alert. As he stood there he felt a swell of hunger surge through his body, and he had to swallow hard as his salivary glands began to tingle.  
  
“Fuck...” He muttered quietly to himself.  
  
Glancing back toward the bus for a moment, then at his watch, he calculated how long he would need before Pat came back from wherever he went with Seb. Then tilting his head back he took a deep breath allowing the many myriad morning scents fill his nostrils. Catching hold of one he growled softly and vanished after it, fangs elongating as he readied to feed.  
  
 _ **A7X Bus  
  
Same Time**_  
  
“What have you  _done_ , Matthew?” Sherry sat huddled at the back of the bus staring up at Shadows where he leaned against the wall a straw clenched between his teeth.  
  
She could sense a change in the large male, a tension that seemed to fill his whole being; an all pervading sense of uncertainty that she had  _never_  in all the time she had known him sensed before.  
  
The master vampire shook his head at her and looked down the aisle to where Johnny was crouched next to Syn attempting to figure out a new chord progression. It was times like these that made everyone forget how much the vampire hated the young Were. A time when all they were, were men in a band who wanted to do the best for their fans.  
  
“Matthew?”  
  
He shot a hard look at her. “Shut it, female.”  
  
Sherry flinched and bowed her head curling her legs beneath her. Shadows sighed, removed the straw from his mouth, and moved to sit next to her. She tensed, he didn’t appear to notice but then he mumbled softly beneath his breath. Sherry tilted her head toward him.  
  
He met her questioning gaze and spoke a little louder. “I’m...sorry.”  
  
The female blinked, surprise in her deep brown eyes. “You...what?”  
  
Zacky who came down the stairs at that moment snorted, not unkindly though, as he walked passed them and headed for the toilet at the other end. “He said he was sorry, Serena.”  
  
Sherry just stared incomprehendingly at the elder male. “Why...why are you apologising?” A sour expression twisted her lips. “You never apologise.”  
  
An almost sad expression ghosted across Shadows’ face. But he didn’t answer he just looked down, twirling the frayed plastic of the straw between his thumb and index finger, and repeated his words softly. “I’m sorry, Serena.”  
  
Sherry’s gaze narrowed. “What did you do?”  
  
The master vampire’s face changed, lip curling. “Yeah. Like I’m going to tell you that?”  
  
She winced at the abrupt change in tone and shifted her weight. Shadows frowned biting at his bottom lip.  
  
Then he swore harshly, tossed the straw aside, and stood looking down at her. “Fuck...Serena...”  
  
Sherry peeked up at him. “My lord?”  
  
The big male raked his fingers through his hair, muscles bunching in his tattooed arms. “I got into a fight with our son.”  
  
Sherry blinked body trembling a little. “Is he alright?”  
  
Shadows slumped next to her again. “Y’know...before last night I wouldn’t have given a fuck either way...but...something happened...and I’m not sure. I kinda hope so.”  
  
Sherry shuddered.  
  
The master vampire sensed her anxiety spike and grimaced. “He’s still alive and walking on his feet and shit...but...his soul...”  
  
“Why the fuck are you telling her all this shit, Shads?”  
  
They both turned their heads; Synyster had finished helping Johnny with the new music and was propped against the wall glowering at them.  
  
“Huh?” Shadows’ brow drew down over his eyes. Honestly, he had no idea why he was telling Sherry any of what had happened; yet, something inside him was compelling him to do so. A weight pressed down on his heart and he had an eerie feeling that if he did just that everything would be okay. He didn’t mention any of this to his lieutenant though. None of it was the other vampire’s business.  
  
Syn sneered at the master vampire’s silence, taking it as a sign that he’d caught his ‘boss’ losing a semblance of control. “Gone soft, Shads?”  
  
Shadows gave a low guttural snarl. “I’m telling her, because it’s fucking pissing me off. I don’t know what the fuck happened last night alright? I wanna figure it out.”  
  
“Oh, by being all soft and caring and talking shit to the female? Shit, you should’ve killed her before you went after Pierre.”  
  
Sherry trembled and pressed back into the wall, eyes flicking between the two males. She knew that Syn was probably right in suggesting that to the master vampire; she also knew that Shadows would have no problem with killing her if he deemed it necessary. So, she watched the two males anxiously waiting to see who would come out on top.  
  
Shadows’ jaw tightened but he didn’t move from his seat next to her. “Brian, keep out of it. None of this concerns you.”  
  
“No?”  
  
“No. So. Fuck off.”  
  
Syn’s gaze narrowed, then he sneered icily, “You’re only saying that because of Johnny.”  
  
“What?” Johnny joined them then brow furrowed in confusion.  
  
The brown-eyed vampire glared at him. “Shads won’t kill the female because he knows you’d fuckin’ freak out.”  
  
The Were stiffened but made no comment, darting a quick look toward Sherry. She met his gaze then looked away staring fixedly at the floor, not wanting to be drawn into the ever escalating situation.  
  
Shadows stood and stared hard at the other vampire. “Back the fuck off, alright? Go tune your fucking guitars; we have one last gig here tomorrow night.” He hesitated, eyes narrowing slightly. “And, I have to go find The Rev.” He looked to Sherry. “You’re coming with me.”  
  
The female gracefully inclined her head in acquiesce. A hint of a smile flickered deep in Shadows’ hazel eyes. Sherry flushed and lowered her head even more. The master vampire growled softly, took hold of her arm then gave a curt nod to Syn and Johnny before disappearing from the bus.  
  
 _ **Cafe Au Lait  
  
10 AM**_  
  
“I do  _not_  have a fuckin’ short attention span...shut  _up_ , Chelle...oh...look some guy with one of them Shitzalot dogs or whatever- oh...sorry...yeah. Okay...Okay...so maybe it’s less than long.” David sat at the back of a coffee shop sipping from a hot mocha and randomly watching people walk passed whilst talking on his cell phone.  
  
He had woken up first that morning which was highly unusual since he was the one who usually made the band late for everything.  
  
That morning his mind had been buzzing with all the knowledge that had been crammed into it the day before. Finding out that his best friend for ‘x’ amount of years was a blood-sucking vampire was definitely something that needed to be thought about. Also, finding out the reason for why Pierre’s fiancée just upped and left...it made his head ache.  
  
For purely selfish reasons, he missed having Lachelle around so without conferring with anyone else, the bassist decided he would call her, convince her to come back to Toronto and...well that’s as far as he got with his planning.  
  
“Look...I miss you. Do you miss me?” David scrunched up his face. “Awww...we all love you, Chelle...I mean...I know even Pierre-” He abruptly cut off when he heard a soft sobbing from the other end of the line. “Chelle...Chelle?”  
  
He clucked his tongue lightly in as reassuring a manner he could manage.  
  
The sniffling at the other end subsided and he leaned his chin against his palm and murmured gently. “You should come back to TO and join us for the rest of the tour...oh, come on...I’m sure it’ll be fine...look...you could always stay at a hotel or something, that way you don’t have to be near Pierre...please...we miss you...and I think Pierre does too...”  
  
David wasn’t really so sure of that last point, but judging by the past that Pierre had had with Lachelle the bassist was holding out hope. He fell silent as he listened to Lachelle attempting to come up with excuses as to why she should come back.  
  
He laughed lightly. “Oh, come on...it’ll be good for you...maybe you should help with Merch or makeup or something...”  
  
David drained the rest of his Mocha. “Think about it okay? We’ll be in TO for a couple more days before we head off over the country.”  
  
He grinned broadly even though he knew she couldn’t see him. “Okay...well, see you...think about it, okay...you too...”  
  
David clicked off his phone and sat staring absently around the cafe. Then he jumped up and walked out, feeling light of heart and that he had done all that he could. Now all there was for him to do was go back to the bus and wait and see what happened. And for the first time ever the bassist felt that he had accomplished something great.  
  
What would be even better, of course, would be if the wheels he had set in motion resulted in his best friend getting back with his fiancée. However, that would take quite a few steps in time, so David knew he would just have to be content with Lachelle rejoining the band on tour.  
  
If that hurdle was cleared...well then who knew what could happen?


	29. Trailing Blood...

_**Toronto Downtown  
  
10:15 AM**_  
  
Shadows materialised right in the middle of the city mall, Sherry close beside him. He frowned casting his sharp gaze up and down the line of shops.  
  
The female glanced warily at him. “Are you sure they’re here, Matthew?”  
  
The master vampire glanced sharply at her. “I can sense James anywhere...he has to be close.”  
  
Sherry lowered her eyes and mumbled an apology. He just shook his head at her then stiffened as his head snapped toward the left, eyes narrowing on two figures exiting a store mere feet away. Sherry followed his gaze and blinked rapidly.  
  
The Rev and the mahogany-haired female were strolling hand in hand across the mall directly toward them. Twin pained expressions ghosted across their faces as they approached.  
  
“Matthew.” The taller vampire’s distinctive voice carried tonelessly across the rapidly closing distance. Shadows tensed biting at his bottom lip. However, he said nothing, waiting.  
  
The Rev halted in front of him casting a quick guarded look at the much smaller female hiding slightly behind the master vampire. “What the fuck, Matthew?”  
  
Shadows also looked at Sherry then met his friend’s severe glare. “Before you accuse me of anything, James, this isn’t what you think it is.”  
  
The Rev growled low, but before he could respond, Luna stepped between them and pegged her elder brother with a solemn look. “Brother.”  
  
Shadows’ stance stiffened as he met his sister’s serious stare; his lips parted slightly revealing the tips of his fangs. Many different thoughts began to swirl through his mind and collide with each other as he just stood there trying to comprehend the presence of this female who had been gone from his life for so long.  
  
Luna just kept looking him in the eyes, her own expression remaining calm even as an invisible breeze lifted several strands of fiery hair from around her face.  
  
Sherry’s pupils dilated slightly as she felt the tension escalate. She looked up toward the master vampire then at his sister. The younger female kept her gaze fixed upon her brother’s uncertain one.  
  
Shadows swallowed hard passed a lump that had formed in his throat. Then he lifted a hand and rubbed it over his face.  
  
“Fuck...Luna...” His deep voice rasped harshly. She sighed lightly and stepped even closer cocking her head to the side as she tried to look into his eyes. Shadows squeezed his eyelids shut and muttered a low curse.  
  
Luna touched her fingers to his cheek. “Mattie...”  
  
He leaned into her touch and a sound almost like a purr emitted from deep in his chest.  
  
Sherry took several steps back watching the siblings as they stood close together. Even though the master vampire was built, and towered above the redheaded female, she appeared so much bigger than he did. Something in her aura overwhelmed his and dimmed the menace that normally radiated from his being.  
  
The smaller female noted that Luna was much taller than she was, but still only reached Shadows’ chin. She tore her gaze away her eyes involuntarily meeting the other male’s soft blue stare.  
  
The Rev inclined his head toward her a slight smile touching the corners of his mouth.  _It’s going to be all right, Serena..._  
  
Sherry shivered and lifted an eyebrow slightly.  _Why do you care?_  
  
The Rev folded his arms and allowed his gaze to float back to the master vampire and Luna.  
  
Yet, he replied to Sherry’s question in an almost tender manner.  _I only want what’s best for Matthew. His...wellbeing has always been my number one priority._  The tall male glanced sideways at the diminutive female.  _When we first met you...he had very...different views of life...and then...things got worse...but I always stuck by him._  
  
Sherry’s brow furrowed as she focussed on the elder male’s words.  _How do you mean?_  
  
The Rev rubbed at his neck as he continued to observe Shadows and Luna. The male had an arm hooked around her shoulders, forehead propped against hers as she whispered softly to him. Her long mahogany locks shielded their faces from the rest of the world, brother and sister communing after so long apart from each other.  
  
 _James?_  Sherry prompted tentatively.  
  
The Rev glanced at her again, eyes brighter than before.  _Corruption, female...his soul...was tainted...bad thoughts, bad deeds...I’m just sorry you got caught in the middle of it all._  
  
Sherry breathed out slowly.  _I never thought that I’d-  
  
Hear such a thing from me? I’m not bad...neither is Matt. Just...bad thoughts, bad deeds._ He paused then added wearily almost as an afterthought,  _I think...he really did love you..._  The tall male rubbed absently at his biceps not looking to the female to see her reaction.  
  
Sherry looked back toward the master vampire, pondering what The Rev had just said and watching the powerful male as he revealed a side of himself she had never witnessed before.  
  
Shadows was trembling slightly, murmuring low to Luna who was listening intently. Suddenly, his voice rose, and both The Rev and Sherry were able to hear what he was saying.  
  
“I want this to fucking stop, Luna...it has to fucking stop...” His voice caught and he snarled in distress.  
  
Luna gripped his shoulders firmly and locked eyes with his. “Then stop it, Mattie. Just, let it all go.”  
  
Shadows groaned shaking his head. “But, Pierre...”  
  
Luna shook her head laughing slightly. “James and I caught Pat praying for him at Santa Maria.”  
  
The master vampire’s eyes widened at that revelation. “Does he think that’ll help?”  
  
His sister shrugged delicately. “Can’t hurt.”  
  
Shadows kneaded at his scalp then finally turned his attention to The Rev and Sherry. “Jimmy, what do you think?”  
  
The Rev shifted his weight, favouring his left leg. “I think-”  
  
He was abruptly interrupted, as Johnny appeared as if from nowhere almost colliding with the lanky male; Zachary popped into existence a split second later.  
  
“We have a problem.” The Were panted hard trying to catch his breath.  
  
The green-eyed vampire nodded vigorously in agreement. “A big fucking one.”  
  
The Rev backed up steadying himself before responding sharply. “Yeah, you running into me.”  
  
“Oi, that was Johnny, not me!” The younger vampire whined.  
  
Shadows glowered at him then glanced at the shorter male. “What, Christ?”  
  
Johnny met his master’s questioning gaze, his own squinting slightly as he noted softness in their depths. “It’s Pierre...he’s gone AWOL...and um...his ex...she’s on her way back to TO.”  
  
“Fuck.” Shadows clenched a fist in his hair. Luna’s expression took on an anxious cast. Sherry shivered wrapping her arms around her breasts.  
  
The Rev hissed softly. “You know where Bouvier went?”  
  
Zachary licked at the tips of his fangs before answering, voice heavy. “Chuck said that he went for a walk...to think.”  
  
“Motherfucker...” Shadows smeared a large hand over his face. Then he stared hard at the younger vampire. “Can you sense him?”  
  
Zachary shook his head worry etched on his usually jovial face, emerald green eyes dark.  
  
Sherry spoke up then her tone hesitant. “Perhaps I could try...?”  
  
The four males turned their heads to look at her.  
  
Before any of them could speak though, Luna stepped in. “That might not be wise, Serena. After what Matt did...there’s no knowing what Pierre’s capable of doing.”  
  
Shadows bristled offended by his sibling’s comment.  
  
The redhead felt his temper spike and pegged him with a serene look. “I am not trying to offend you, Matthew. I’m just telling it like it is.” Shadows opened his mouth to argue but his sister cut him off sharply. “I know you didn’t deliberately set out to turn Pierre against you...but...” Luna paused and glanced back at the smaller female. “Pierre is in a bad situation. And he is angry with you. His brother...”  
  
“Not his brother,” Shadows said tightly.  
  
Luna shook her head. “No. Not blood-related...but they were raised together. And you destroyed that relationship.”  
  
Shadows trembled; his sister’s eyes met his and he saw an emotion in their depths that made his stomach twist and his head throb. There was compassion in her eyes, so much of it that he could not maintain eye contact with her.  
  
Looking away, he stared hard at a point in the distance.  
  
Luna observed him for a long moment then looked at the others. “Also...Pierre’s female...Matt took her virginity.”  
  
“What the fuck?” Zachary stared incredulously at the master vampire. Shadows growled defensively in response.  
  
The Rev came to his defence. “He did it on a whim.”  
  
“Still doesn’t make it right,” Zachary snapped, snakebites flashing.  
  
“Of course not,” Shadows bit out coldly, “But, I didn’t particularly give a shit at the time.”  
  
“And now?”  
  
Shadows turned away folding his arms over his chest the motion accentuating the bulge of his biceps. They all watched him as his broad shoulders tensed.  
  
Then he murmured low repeating the words The Rev had spoken to Sherry. “Bad thoughts...bad deeds...” He peered over his shoulder at them mortal anguish shining deep in his hazel stare. “This has to end. Here. Now.”  
  
Zachary narrowed his gaze at the master vampire. Johnny frowned quizzically at the large male wondering at his apparently abrupt change of heart. The Rev hissed in agreement. The two females just observed the big male in silence.  
  
Shadows turned to face them lifting his chin an expression of steely determination fixed in his eyes. “I’m responsible for my actions. I’m responsible for everything that’s happened. I have to fucking deal with it.” He paused casting a long look at his sister. “Luna. You saw this. You saw all of this, decades ago. And like a fool I thought I could do this on my own. But...I was wrong. Fucking stupid of me.”  
  
Shadows swallowed hard Adam’s apple bobbing vigorously. Rubbing at his biceps, he looked away again the overwhelming vulnerability of the situation getting to him.  
  
“I should never have...” He halted abruptly clenching his jaw so hard that they could all hear it crack slightly.  
  
“Never have what, Shads?” Zachary lifted an eyebrow. Shadows shook his head and mumbled under his breath before swinging around and vanishing from in front of them.  
  
The others blinked in surprise then glanced at each other anxiety written all over their faces.  
  
The Rev was the first to speak after a moment of stunned silence. “Someone should go after Matt.”  
  
Sherry lifted a hand, as did Johnny. “We will.”  
  
The Were licked his lips. “He needs support...if nothing else.”  
  
“Then Luna should go as well,” Zachary, pointed out.  
  
The lanky male nodded and looked at Shadows’ younger sibling. “Luna?”  
  
Luna nodded. “I’ll go with Johnny and Serena.”  
  
“Right.” The Rev glanced at Zachary. “We’ll go look for Pierre?”  
  
The green-eyed vampire hissed softly. “ASAP.”  
  
The Rev nodded then scowled. “What’s Syn up to?”  
  
“Minding the bus.”  
  
Johnny blinked then quipped, “Don’t you mean, minding his own business?”  
  
Zachary snorted. “Watch it, wolf.”  
  
The Were flinched but only a little and he didn’t apologise for his comment.  
  
The elder vampire shot a warning glance at him but then sighed. “Go. Catch up with Matt. V. Let’s go.”  
  
With that, The Rev vanished; Zachary grunted and disappeared after him. Johnny, Luna and Sherry glanced at each other and then they too vanished following the master vampire’s distinct scent wherever he had disappeared to.  
  
 _ **Montreal Bus Station  
  
Noon**_  
  
Lachelle stood at the bus stop gazing down the street an anxious expression on her face. After receiving David’s emphatic phone call she had begun to wonder if it had been so wise to leave the band just because Pierre had pushed her away. She loved the guys so much, and she always enjoyed helping out.  
  
At the same time, though she was apprehensive about how Pierre would react to having her around. Especially since, she still didn’t remember what had happened between her and Shadows. Of course, she knew he had taken her, but she was confused on whether it had been non-consensual or whether she had gone to him willingly. He had played with her mind, she was sure of it, but she did not understand what had happened.  
  
Shaking her head she watched as the bus finally arrived. The door hissed open and she climbed on board clutching her bag close to her as she swiped her travel card across the automatic ticket machine. Finding her way to a seat by the window, she stared blankly out at the street as the bus pulled away from the stop and trundled on its way toward Toronto.  
  
Half asleep, the hum of the tyres against the bitumen lulling her, she tensed slightly when she heard a voice in her ear.  _Go back...don’t go to TO...go back..._  
  
“What?”  
  
She sat up and jerked her head around to look behind her.  
  
An elderly woman sat behind her and tilted her head, expression gentle. “You okay, sweetie?”  
  
Lachelle shook her head and slumped down on her seat. “No. I’m fine, thanks...”  
  
 _Fine...? You will be if you turn around and go home..._  
  
Lachelle blinked rapidly and pulled her iPod out jamming the ear buds in her ears and cranking up the music.  
  
 _Chelle...don’t be stupid..._  
  
The voice sounded familiar to her, but she just shook it off, thinking, it was her imagination playing tricks on her. Closing her eyes and sinking further down on her seat she allowed the music to swell in her mind and take her away, no other thoughts drawing her attention.  
  
 _ **Toronto**  
  
2 PM_  
  
Pat’s eyes snapped open. “Fuck.”  
  
Seb, who was packing up their equipment, glanced at his friend. “What is it?”  
  
The Were rubbed at his face in frustration. “Nothing. I have to go.” He looked at the guitarist, frowning faintly. Seb just gave him a confused look, so he added softly, “Lachelle is on her way here...”  
  
His friend looked surprised. “How do you know that?”  
  
Pat shook his head. “Don’t ask. I’ll see you back at the bus.”  
  
“Um. Okay then.” Seb blinked as Pat just vanished into thin air. “Shit...” Shaking his head, he grabbed the gear and made his way back to the bus.  
  
Unbeknownst to him, Pierre was heading in the opposite direction on a parallel path, crossing the town to the Main Bus port in the centre of the city. The reason: he had picked up a tantalising and familiar scent; it was becoming stronger every minute. It was causing his salivary glands to work overtime; but at the same time, it was causing a renewed surge of rage and bloodlust to tingle through every cell of his body.  
  
 _Lachelle...Lachelle is coming..._  
  
He growled low as he approached the bus port and slid through the main gates. Stalking across the lot, he went to the point where the Montreal bus would stop to offload its passengers.  
  
Leaning against the wall beneath the ‘Welcome to Toronto’ banner, Pierre folded his arms and waited, knowing that very soon he would be able to satisfy his craving for sex and blood.  
  
 _Very...very soon..._


	30. "You know I make you wanna scream."

_**Toronto  
  
7 PM**_  
  
Pierre sat on the edge of a bed his face in his hands, breathing heavily. Dark streaks of sweat and blood stained his arms, face and chest. He looked as if he had been in a battle, in a serious fight. Which, in a way, was somewhat true; he had been fighting, but it had been a little one-sided.  
  
His opponent had been someone much weaker than him, someone who was easily overpowered and broken. Someone, a woman, who was still in the room with him.  
  
Pierre sat beneath the dim glow of the single bulb that swung from the ceiling. He and his victim were in a condemned apartment building, which still had some furniture inside, rundown as it was. He had dragged her there after snatching her from the bus station, deciding it would not be wise to go back to the tour bus, or even to a hotel. He couldn’t afford to leave a trail of where he had been.  
  
There was a low whimper from the body that lay in shadows on the mattress. He turned his head slightly to glower at the woman. The woman, his ex-fiancée. Long blonde hair lay around the woman’s face like a golden ring.  
  
 _Looks like a fucking angel..._  Pierre thought bitterly.  
  
He turned even more and looked down into his ex’s fear filled expression. Tracing the tip of his tongue along one fang, he smirked faintly.  
  
Lachelle stared back at him, trembling. Her pupils were dilated, her breathing erratic. There was an already healing wound at her throat where Pierre had fed from her vein. She was naked her long lean body exposed to Pierre’s dark gaze.  
  
The corner of his lip pulled up revealing bloodstained fangs. She whimpered and shifted to her side, pulling her knees up to her chest. Pierre growled low the sound rumbling deep in his chest. Then he stood and reached down to unbuckle the belt at his waist and remove his jeans. He had only removed his shirt before because he’d had no real desire to get it covered in blood.  
  
It had taken some effort though because he had had to hold Lachelle down. She had been thrashing about so much, while he was trying to remove his shirt and bite at her neck and tear at her clothes all at the same time. Obviously he had managed, because now she lay with no protection from him, whatsoever.  
  
He chuckled silently before turning and crawling onto the bed. Lachelle whimpered again and curled tighter into herself, attempting to protect her body from him. Pierre rolled his eyes and grabbed hold of her left hip, the one that was pointing up at him.  
  
She quivered and grabbed at the sheets and pillow and pleading softly half under her breath. “No...Please...Pierre...don’t...no...”  
  
Pierre growled and wrenched her onto her back, moving to force her legs out straight. A sob escaped from her lips and tears trickled from the corners of her eyes.  
  
“No!” Lachelle cried out as Pierre pried her thighs apart and settled his big body between them. He could feel her shaking beneath him. He ignored her pleas as he bit her on the side, sinking just the tips of his fangs into her skin, snarling softly.  
  
At the same time he jabbed between her legs with his cock, it was stiff and ready for action. Grunting as he tasted blood on his tongue, biting his way up her side, he finally found her entrance and forced his way into her dry hole.  
  
She whined and grabbed at his shoulders trying to push him away. He gave a low, dangerous snarl in the back of his throat, seizing her slender wrists in one hand and pinning them to the bed.  
  
She shuddered as he shoved his cock into her tender flesh. He pounded his way into her body, hissing between his teeth. “Fuck, you’re  _tight_.”  
  
Lachelle groaned, eyes rolling slightly from the pain, sobbing constantly as he thrust roughly into her. When he was sheathed all the way inside her, moaning at the tightness of her pussy wrapped around his cock, he bared his fangs biting into the side of her neck again. Her whole body seemed to convulse beneath his at the penetration but he held her body down easily, his cock grinding brutally at the inside walls of her pussy.  
  
She whimpered at each thrust but allowed her body to fall limp beneath his knowing that there was no point in fighting him. Pierre was far too strong, and far too determined to take from her.  
  
He snarled and bit deeper sucking at the wound in her neck, the taste of her blood spurring him on. He ploughed viciously into her body, harder and faster. The bed creaked and the backboard thumped against the wall. He hissed against her neck as he drove his hips against hers firmly mindful that there would be bruising once he had finished.  
  
Lachelle’s body shook at the violent motion of his thrusting above hers, every line of his hard body moulded savagely against hers, shoving her into the bed as he took his pleasure from her delicate frame. He groaned in the back of his throat as he felt the familiar tingle at the base of his spine; his balls tightened almost painfully as he slammed furiously into her body.  
  
Clenching his teeth then arching his head back slightly as he shoved his cock entirely inside her pussy pressing against her cervix, balls crushed against her body. The whine of pain that he forced out of her sent shockwaves through his body and hit him hard.  
  
He let out a roar as his orgasm rushed through his body and he released in a jerking rush deep inside her. Growling, he pumped in and out of her pliant body until he felt his dick soften. He remained inside her after he’d released and lay heavily upon her trembling form.  
  
Resting his head between her breasts he breathed out roughly then he turned his head and nuzzled against her neck where he had bitten her. Lachelle cried softly. He lifted his head slightly and stared down into her face. Her eyes flickered weakly towards him then away as if she didn’t want to even see him. Pierre could understand that, but it didn’t really faze him.  
  
Sliding his hands to press against the mattress, he pushed up off her body and stretched his back slowly. As he did this, his eyes drifted absently toward the window. He stiffened almost instantly.  
  
Someone was staring through the window directly into his eyes. He hissed, fangs flashing. The face hovered there for a moment, familiar hazel eyes flashing with rage and disappointment before disappearing.  
  
Pierre shook his head and closed his eyes, breathing deeply.  _Fucking Patrick...fucking spying on me..._  
  
He rubbed at his face and withdrew from Lachelle’s battered body and lay next to her, on his side, gazing languidly upon the wound on her neck. Running the tip of his tongue over his fangs the taste of her blood lingered in his mouth. He chuckled low then pushed up off the bed and headed for the  _en suite_.  
  
He had to get cleaned up, then somehow wipe his ex’s mind of what had just happened and get her out of Toronto without anyone else finding out. Aside from Pat’s peeping Tom act. He’d deal with that, later.  
  
 **** _9 PM_  
  
Luna, Sherry and Johnny materialised outside the Simple Plan bus appearing moments after Shadows did. The master vampire glanced behind him and blinked when he recognised the two females and the Were.  
  
He hissed softly baring his fangs. “What the fuck are you doing here?”  
  
His sister stepped forward mahogany locks seeming to glow beneath the dim lights of the bus. “Moral support, Matt.”  
  
Shadows groaned and glanced back toward the bus. “A lot of good that’s going to do.” His tone was bitter.  
  
Luna moved to stand by his side. “A lot more good than you going off by your lonesome to wallow in guilt.”  
  
Shadows snarled, “Who says I feel guilty?”  
  
“No one has to, Shads.” Johnny walked up on his other side and stared up at him, expression unwontedly gentle. The big male had to look away unable to handle the look in the Were’s eyes.  
  
Sherry joined them and added her own two cents worth. “No one should be alone in a time like this.”  
  
Shadows turned his head to look at the smaller woman, biting at his bottom lip. “Serena, you...you shouldn’t be here.”  
  
“Why not, sire?” A ghost of a smile played on her lips. “Pierre is as much my son as he is yours.”  
  
“Speaking of which we need to talk with his friends...tell him that the shit’s hit the fan.” Johnny nodded toward the door of the bus.  
  
The three vampires followed his indication with their eyes. Just as they did, Patrick appeared; pale and bedraggled he looked as if he had been dragged through a wringer, his hair plastered to his forehead, sweat trickling down his face and a god-awful smell blooming all over his skin.  
  
“Pat?” Johnny shivered, nostrils flaring at the scent that covered the elder Werewolf.  
  
Shadows sensed alarm bells ringing in his ears at the same time picking up the distinct scent of male Were emanating from Simple Plan’s Merch and web guy.  
  
He stared hard at Pat only one thought coming to surface in his mind. “You’re a Lycan.”  
  
Pat blinked dumbly at the master vampire for a long moment; then he laughed roughly, wiping a hand over his face. “Took your time figuring that one out, Shadows.”  
  
Johnny sniffed at that; Luna and Sherry both shook their heads slowly.  
  
Shadows frowned and looked at them all. “You knew this?”  
  
Johnny sighed. “Shads...”  
  
The master vampire looked at the smaller Were. “Yeah?”  
  
“You know my contact in Montreal...”  
  
Shadows’ eyes widened and he whipped his head around to Patrick. “You? You were...all this time...”  
  
Pat chuckled low. “All this time, Matt.”  
  
He added, quietly, “Y’know, Jimmy knew. But, he kept it from you.”  
  
Shadows scowled. “Why?”  
  
The elder Were smiled sadly. “That’s not important, Matt. We have a bigger problem to worry about.”  
  
Shadows growled low but acquiesced looking back toward the bus. “Where did you just come from?”  
  
“I found Pierre.”  
  
The master vampire’s body tensed. “Where?”  
  
Pat leaned back against the side of the bus staring hard at Shadows, lip curling. “Congratulations, Sanders. You’ve got what you wanted.”  
  
The large male groaned. “Pat, that doesn’t fuckin’ answer my question.”  
  
Pat sneered, “You wanna know where I found Pierre? In a fucking hole at the other end of town. A condemned building site.” Shadows opened his mouth to respond, but the Were held up his hand and went on cruelly. “Lachelle was with him...and he fucking...” Pat paused shaking his head angrily. “He...fuck...he was...”  
  
The Were squeezed his eyes shut unable to go on; however, images of what he had seen flashed furiously across his mind, which he allowed to open to the others.  
  
Shadows froze as the images suddenly flowered in his mind. He recoiled from them, repelling them from his consciousness. Sherry sank to her haunches and buried her face in her hands a choked sob escaping her. Luna blinked rapidly a cloud of disbelief obscuring her expression. And, Johnny just looked stunned, unable to think of a response.  
  
After several long minutes of pained silence, each one trying to process what Pat had shown them, the elder Were opened his eyes abruptly cutting off the flow of memory. Shadows stared at him mouth drawn in a grim line. Pat met his stern gaze and raised his eyebrows.  
  
The master vampire cleared his throat before speaking gruffly. “How the hell did you do that?”  
  
Pat smirked wryly. “I’ve been around. Learned a few tricks. But...y’know.”  
  
Shadows lifted a hand to adjust his ball cap. Johnny moved to crouch next to Sherry, resting a hand on her back and rubbing in slow circles. She leaned into him. Luna began to pace chewing lightly on her bottom lip.  
  
“So,” Pat rumbled, “now that’s out in the open, what do we do about it?”  
  
Shadows cleared his throat, his features setting like stone, hard and determined. “We need to talk to your band. They have the right to know what’s going on. And then, someone needs to go after Pierre.” He looked at Pat. “Where is he?”  
  
“Still at the building site.”  
  
Shadows cocked an eyebrow. “With his ex?”  
  
The elder Were shook his head. “No. Lachelle has been removed. The...brethren are taking care of her.” He paused then added with a tiny smirk, “The Rev and Zacky showed up after I did...they’re keeping an eye on Pierre.”  
  
The master vampire’s gaze narrowed but then he just nodded and glanced at the others. They all stared back at him waiting for him to say something. He sensed that somehow they trusted him to control the situation.  
  
Of course, he could understand that feeling from Johnny; the younger Were, even though he was afraid of his vampire master, still trusted him to do what was best. He could also understand how his sister could believe in him, because she always had. Sherry though was a bit of a surprise. After everything he had done to her, and everything he’d been towards her, for her to even contemplate trusting him, it seemed like a miracle.  
  
Lifting a hand, he pinched at the bridge of his nose, shifting his aviators a little. “Right. Well, who’s going to go in and tackle the band?”  
  
Pat shook his head. “That’s my call, Shads. My responsibility.”  
  
Shadows growled, “But, if they hear it from me.”  
  
“No.” Pat continued to shake his head, eyes dark. “You need to think about the shit you’ve stirred up.”  
  
Luna spoke up then, voice low directing her comments to her elder brother. “Matt, you, me and Serena...we need to talk. More to the point...you and Serena need to talk.”  
  
Shadows turned to her, expression strained, eyes glinting behind his shades. “What the hell for?”  
  
His sister met his burning gaze knowing that the only reason he was being so defensive was because he did not want to show any sign of weakness. She knew him well enough to realise that was the case.  
  
“Matthew, you owe it to her.”  
  
Shadows closed his eyes a shiver causing the hairs all over his body to bristle slightly. Then he re-opened them and gave his sister a slight shake of his head in acknowledgement.  
  
Johnny cleared his throat to get their attention after a moments silence passed. They all cast questioning looks his way.  
  
“Pat?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“You said Zacky and The Rev were watching Pierre?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“So, should one of us go back and get him? Or...”  
  
Pat sucked at his bottom lip.  
  
Shadows snorted, allowing his lip to lift away from his fangs. “Thanks for volunteering, pup.”  
  
Johnny rolled his eyes. “Welcome, Shads.”  
  
Pat glowered at the vampire then looked at the younger Werewolf. “Were you offering?”  
  
Johnny sighed, a tired expression coming over his face. “Yeah, I was. Considering, that you and I were the first to notify him of what he was.”  
  
“Fair enough. Anyone object?”  
  
Pat looked at the others carefully. They all shook their heads in answer.  
  
“Right then.” He cleared his throat with a grunt. “See y’all in a few.”  
  
Pat turned and crunched across the gravel back to the bus. Luna caught hold of her brother’s arm in one hand and grasped Serena’s in the other vanishing them from the area. Johnny took a deep, slow breath, steeling his resolve before heading off to the other side of town, to find Pierre.


	31. The Tragedy of Triumph

_**Simple Plan Tour Bus  
  
Same Night  
  
9:45 Pm**_  
  
Pat was drained. He sat on the edge of the lounge head bowed, sandy hair lank, dull like that of a dead man. All his emotions had been wrung out of him multiple times that night and he didn’t think he could cope with anymore. Seb sat opposite him a worried expression in bright blue eyes.  
  
The guitarist had never seen Pat like this before and it was troubling.  
  
He leaned forward to attempt to make eye contact with the Werewolf. “Pat? Dude...c’mon...we’ll get through this.”  
  
Pat gave a soft grunt without lifting his head.  
  
Seb sighed shifting his weight. “Look, the others...they’re just shocked...I mean...damn...Pierre and you...what you are...”  
  
The two men were the only ones left awake after Pat had finished telling them about Pierre’s whereabouts and the situation he had gotten himself into. It had not been a pleasant discussion. Half the time Pat had wished that he could just make it all go away, wave a magic wand and make everything go back to normal. But, he didn’t have that luxury; he wasn’t God.  
  
Shaking his head he peered up at his friend through his fringe. “It’s not that, Seb. They...fuck...they took it all pretty damn well.”  
  
That had surprised the Were somewhat. He had expected them to be more shocked than they’d acted. Even David had managed to stay quiet and not react in his usual over-the-top way. Chuck of course had been the calmest about the information, considering he had been the first to be told the truth.  
  
Jeff had remained silent the whole time Pat had been speaking. Then once he’d done they’d just sat silently pondering everything he had said. Then they slowly left and went to bed, leaving Pat and Seb alone.  
  
Pat groaned and lowered his eyes again.  
  
Seb frowned. “Then what’s up?”  
  
“Pierre...” Pat rubbed his hands up and down his thighs staring earnestly at a spot on the floor.  
  
Seb cocked his head to the side. “Pierre?”  
  
Pat clenched his jaw the sound of his teeth grinding together filling the bus. “I don’t...” Pat paused, “I don’t know what to fucking do, Seb.” He kept rubbing his legs squeezing at his kneecaps.  
  
His friend bit at his bottom lip. “You want to go and check on him?”  
  
Pat shook his head. “He’ll probably be pissed at me.”  
  
“How come?”  
  
Pat looked at Seb and answered tightly, “I took his meal away from him.”  
  
The younger male blinked. “What?” he shook his head sharply, “no...that just...sounds...”  
  
“Wrong?” Pat’s voice was harsh. “Yeah, but that’s how it would’ve ended up if I hadn’t intervened.”  
  
Seb shook his head hard, “Lachelle...hey...maybe you should go check on her?”  
  
The Were looked at his friend. “You think?”  
  
“Well, you’re not going to get any sleep tonight, are you?”  
  
Pat pinched at the bridge of his nose, his eyes closing for a moment then snapping open once more. Seb’s eyes widened slightly.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Your...eyes...”  
  
Pat frowned, but then he grinned. Springing to his feet, he squeezed the guitarist’s shoulder. “C’mon. We’ll go see how she is then.”  
  
Before Seb could comment, Pat changed right in front of him, a soft growl emanating from deep in the back of his throat.  
  
He blinked looking down at the large wolf that had transformed in front of him. “Uh...?”  
  
Pat scratched at the floor.  _Better for me to go this way. Not such a shock for the Brothers. Hang onto my scruff. We’ll go see how Lachelle is._  
  
Seb hesitantly reached out to clutch at the thick fur at the nape of Pat’s neck. Pat yipped then wagged his tail once. There was no time for Seb to react because next he knew they had left the bus and were standing in the middle of a large maze of warehouses.  
  
“Where the hell-”  
  
Pat yipped softly cutting his friend off.  _Hush...don’t say anything. I don’t usually bring humans down this way..._  
  
Seb frowned confusion written all over his face.  
  
Pat nudged at his leg.  _Go to the left..._  
  
The guitarist looked in the direction the Were was indicating. Along one path there was a nondescript grey building with a large steel-grey door. Even though it wasn’t the most appealing of facades it stood out in stark relief to the rest of the surrounding buildings due to a gleam of light that filtered from beneath the heavy barrier.  
  
Seb raised his eyebrows in question at the Were and pointed toward the building. Pat growled and trotted ahead of his friend tail flagging. The guitarist followed the Were keeping quiet as Pat had instructed eyes darting anxiously from side to side.  
  
Pat looked back once at the man then swung his head back around and gave a low growl that rumbled from deep in his chest. Seconds after, the heavy steel door creaked open. Seb blinked in surprise when he saw the figure standing, framed by the doorway.  
  
“Mr Cunningham?”  
  
Alpha tilted his head and smiled grimly. “Sebastien,” he glanced down at Pat. “Pat...”  
  
Pat grunted and yipped at his father before slipping passed him into the building and disappearing, leaving Seb alone with the elder male.  
  
Alpha met the curious expression of the younger man. “You here to see how Lachelle is?”  
  
Seb rubbed his hands on his pants. “I guess. Did Pat bring her here?”  
  
The elder Were shook his head. “No, some of my men did. C’mon in. I’ll take you to her. How’re the rest of the band?”  
  
Seb followed Alpha as he lead him into a large entrance way and toward one of many hallways. He cleared his throat before answering, keeping pace with the elder male. “Asleep.”  
  
Pat’s father chuckled. “Tour going well?”  
  
Seb grimaced, voice dry, “As much as possible considering all the shit that’s going on.”  
  
Alpha sighed, “True that. Pierre’s completely lost it, I gather.”  
  
“I don’t really know...”  
  
“Humph...well hopefully it will all be set to rights soon,” the elder male commented, grimly. “If Matthew sees fit to see the error of his ways...” The elder Were allowed his words to tail off as he came to a halt outside a small wooden door. “In there. I’ll not go in. Pat’s already there.”  
  
Seb wondered how the elder Cunningham knew that but before he could ask the door opened and Pat’s head poked around the corner. He was back in human form and Seb couldn’t help but notice the bags under his friend’s eyes.  
  
“Seb, come in, but keep quiet. She’s asleep.” He opened the door more letting the younger man into the room. Seb peered passed his friend into the dim room. There wasn’t much in there, a steel night stand and a black steel framed double bed.  
  
Lying on the bed cocooned in brown blankets was Lachelle. She looked so delicate as if she would break apart at the least touch. Seb thought that even in the dark her paleness was obvious, as if all the blood had been drained from her vessels.  
  
 _That’s almost true._  
  
Seb looked at Pat who had spoken without opening his mouth. The Were’s expression was hard. Seb chewed at his tongue then looked to Lachelle again noting bruising at the side of her neck.  
  
“Pierre did that?” his question came out in a disbelieving whisper.  
  
Pat nodded tightly, answering in a low voice, “Yeah. If I hadn’t shown she might’ve not recovered.”  
  
“Crazy...” Seb breathed out roughly and leaned back against the wall gazing upon Lachelle’s still form. “Will she be okay?”  
  
Pat nodded wearily sitting on a chair by the bed. “Yeah, we got to her in time. My sister’s been in and out keeping an eye on her.” He leaned back against his chair folding his arms an introspective look glossing over his eyes.  
  
Seb shuffled his feet. “So, what about Pierre...has somebody...?”  
  
Pat’s gaze flickered. “Zacky and Jimmy are watching him...Johnny went to help them...all we can do is wait.”  
  
Seb nodded and slid down the wall to sit on the floor wrapping his arms around his knees. Pat looked down at the floor, clasping his hands between his legs and the two friends remained in strangely calm silence as they just allowed the time to pass, their thoughts focusing on how everyone else was faring.  
  
 _ **Other side of town**_  
  
“Matthew, talk to her.”  
  
Shadows, Luna and Serena had found their way to one of the many local parks in the outer city region.  
  
The master vampire had parked his ass on a bench and had his head bowed resting in his hands. His sister sat next to him her forehead resting against the side of his, one hand rubbing slow circles between his shoulder blades. Sherry stood several feet away, just waiting and watching.  
  
To say that she was nervous would be a massive understatement. Considering her relationship with Shadows was so flimsy and based upon fear, on her part, it was no wonder that her stomach felt like it was in her mouth. His shift in attitude was not making it any easier either; after centuries of oppression from the master vampire it was difficult for Sherry to feel at ease around the male.  
  
Minutes passed as Luna continued to murmur soft encouragements to the master vampire. The scene intrigued Sherry a little. This was a side of Shadows she had never been privileged enough to witness, and it was slightly unnerving. She watched on in silence.  
  
Shadows sighed heavily and after what seemed like an age, he lifted his head and looked toward Sherry. His covered stare met her wary one.  
  
He waited for a heartbeat, and then cleared his throat before motioning to her. “Come here, Serena...we need to talk.”  
  
Sherry licked at her lips, approaching the bench cautiously. Luna stood and moved to lean against the back of the bench.  
  
Shadows pressed his lips together. “I’m not gonna bite.”  
  
She flushed a little and sat as far away from the large male as was physically possible. Shadows could sense her uneasiness so remained still so as not to startle her unnecessarily, but not before removing his shades and hooking them on his shirt.  
  
For a moment they sat in silence both contemplating the situation they had found themselves in.  
  
It wasn’t until Luna let out a deep almost exasperated sigh that the male vampire turned the smaller female and started speaking. “When you left Huntington...how did you decide where you were going to go?”  
  
Sherry met Shadows’ curious gaze deciding how to answer the question knowing that it would either make him mad or surprise him. “Johnny. He said he had...friends in Montreal.”  
  
Shadows’ lifted an eyebrow then nodded. “Yeah, guess they were Pat’s family.”  
  
“Guess so.” Sherry looked down at the ground watching as a moth alighted on a blade of grass.  
  
Shadows shifted his weight, the bench creaking. “So...what about the Bouvier’s? How?”  
  
Sherry squeezed her hands against the seat of the bench. “Pat’s father...knew Rèal, said that they were the perfect family for our son...”  
  
She peered up at the master vampire.  
  
His face was impassive. “So, you left him on their doorstep?”  
  
“It was the hardest thing I’d ever done...but I knew you’d come looking for us. And I was...afraid...”  
  
Shadows tilted his head back and clenched his fists before allowing them to relax. “You were right to be scared. I really wanted to find you and kill you for taking my son from me.”  
  
Sherry trembled and wrapped her arms around her breasts in a protective gesture.  
  
The master vampire grimaced and rubbed wearily at his face. “I would’ve done it. Y’know? I would’ve killed you.”  
  
The female bit at her bottom lip the tip of her left fang piercing the skin lightly. Shadows stiffened at the blooming scent of fresh blood; vampire blood was much more potent than human blood. Sherry noted the expression on the male’s face and tensed a little. He gritted his teeth then looked away.  
  
Sherry shuffled her feet in the grass then cast a sidelong look at the large male. “What about now?”  
  
Luna who had remained silent throughout the exchange so far leaned over the back of the bench and nudged Shadows gently. “Yes. What about now, Matt?”  
  
Shadows turned to look at his sister then swivelled his head to look at Sherry. She was the only female that the master vampire had ever mated. Once a male vampire mated it was for life. Yet, he hadn’t been a very good mate to her. In fact he’d hardly been a mate to her at all. He had never even told her that he...  
  
He abruptly let that particular thought disappear and bared his fangs slightly. “Gates wants me to kill you.”  
  
Sherry cringed into herself.  
  
Shadows groaned a little. “But, I don’t...not anymore,” he said tiredly, adding, “things changed.”  
  
“Changed?” Sherry sounded sceptical.  
  
The master vampire frowned. “The other night...when I bit Pierre.”  
  
Sherry’s eyes widened. “You never said...”  
  
“I know. That changed everything. Fuck...I don’t know how...but it did.” He stretched his arms out along the back of the bench and looked earnestly at her. “I fucked up, Serena.”  
  
Sherry pursed her lips at him uncertain how to respond to his declaration. Considering Shadows had wanted control of their son, she wondered exactly how he had messed up. Prior to all of these happenings it would have seemed the outcome would have been exactly what he wanted. She was not sure whether to trust what he was saying now.  
  
Luna had no such compunctions though. Shadows’ sister moved to sit between them glancing sharply at each of them.  
  
Then she focused her eyes upon the elder female. “Serena. I can tell you don’t trust what Matt’s saying.”  
  
Sherry rolled her eyes. With the fiery redhead sitting between them she felt braver than if she had been alone with the master vampire. “Can you blame me, after everything he’s done to me?”  
  
“No. There’s no blame there,” Luna acknowledged. “But, you shouldn’t judge him for his past.”  
  
Sherry struggled with her thoughts for a moment then inquired, “How do you know that I can trust him?”  
  
Luna met her anxious gaze directly as she responded, “I know my brother. But I also know what the future will hold.” She glanced at Shadows who was staring at the ground chewing hard at his bottom lip. She looked back at Sherry. “Things will get better. But...only if something is done for Pierre,” she took a deep breath before ploughing onwards. “You two have to reconcile before anything can be done...and I know that’s not an easy ask.”  
  
Sherry trembled. “I don’t think I could forgive...”  
  
Shadows cut in roughly, “I don’t ever expect forgiveness from you, Serena. I don’t deserve it. And I don’t expect it. Hate me...if it’ll make it easier.”  
  
Sherry looked passed Luna to look at the male, interrupting his spiel. “I don’t hate you, Matthew.”  
  
“No?”  
  
“No. Never hated you. Scared shitless of you...but never hated you.”  
  
Shadows cocked an eyebrow at her disbelieving. “Never?”  
  
Sherry gave him a tiny smile. “Crazy, I know.”  
  
Shadows nodded in agreement. “Absolutely. If I were you I’d hate me.”  
  
Luna snorted. “You’re too hard to hate.”  
  
Shadows flushed looking at his sister. “Thanks...I guess.” He took several deep breaths before standing and looking out over the park. “Still, I meant what I said. I don’t expect forgiveness.”  
  
Sherry hesitated before getting to her own feet and moving to stand next to the master vampire. He looked down at her his expression guarded.  
  
She looked back at him her own expression just as uncertain. “Matthew?”  
  
“Mhm?”  
  
Sherry paused, really wanting to say something along the lines of how even though she couldn’t forgive him; she was willing to work on their future relationship. However she couldn’t find the words so instead she asked, “What’re we going to do about Pierre?”  
  
The master vampire lifted his eyes back toward the horizon, squaring his shoulders. “We’re going to raise Hell. And destroy the fucker within.”  
  
Sherry felt a tremor race through her body. “What do you mean?”  
  
Shadows brought his gaze to hers; his eyes were bright, burning with a flame of determination. “You’ll see.”  
  
He readjusted his ball cap, unhooked his shades slipping them onto his face then grasped Sherry’s hand lightly. She recoiled involuntarily.  
  
Shadows relaxed his grip. “You do want to help Pierre?”  
  
She nodded emphatically and tightened her grasp on his hand.  
  
He blinked at her then looked over to Luna. “Back to the bus first.”  
  
His sister nodded and disappeared.  
  
He looked back at Sherry. “Ready, Serena?”  
  
Sherry lifted her chin meeting his covered gaze with determination that almost matched his. “Ready as I’ll ever be...considering...”  
  
Nodding at her response, Shadows set his jaw and squeezed her hand gently before vanishing them from the park.  
  
 _ **Somewhere else**_  
  
“Fuck you, Jimmy...untie me you fucking bastard!” Pierre snarled, baring his fangs at the lanky vampire who was leaning back against the wall an amused expression on his face.  
  
The Rev wasn’t taking any chances. The younger vampire was chained to the end of the very bed he’d been using to rape his ex-fiancée on.  
  
When The Rev and Zacky had forced their way into the room and Lachelle had been removed the two elder vampires had tackled Pierre onto the bed. Then using a bicycle chain they had found under the bed they chained him to the iron bed head. For their safety and his own.  
  
“No can do, Bouvier. Don’t want you attacking us.”  
  
Zacky sat on the windowsill sucking on a chicken bone. He had slipped out earlier, returning with a bucket of KFC chicken, leaving The Rev to try and calm Pierre down.  
  
He was yanking at the bike chain, ice cold fury burning in his eyes. “Fucker. I haven’t done anything to you. Fucking untie me.”  
  
“No,” The Rev frowned at him. “You’re a danger to all of us, and yourself so just shut up and sit tight.”  
  
Pierre hissed savagely before slumping back against the bed head grumbling to himself. “Should break these chains...”  
  
Zacky’s brow furrowed. “You can’t, Bouvier. Rev did something to them so you can’t.”  
  
“Fuck you, Baker,” Pierre spat viciously.  
  
“No, I’d rather you didn’t. You fucking raped someone with that thing.”  
  
The Rev interrupted, “Shut up both of you. We just gotta wait for someone to get here and tell us what we’re gonna do about all this.”  
  
“Humph, what can we do? I mean, seriously...what?” Zacky shot an angry look at the vampire chained to the bed.  
  
Pierre sneered, blood-stained fangs flashing. The green-eyed vampire shook his head and looked out the window. The Rev just sighed; he had no answers and bearing in mind that he was the eldest vampire of the lot that was a worry. All he could do was wait; in fact, that was all any of them could do. It definitely wasn’t going to be an easy wait though.  
  
With an enraged vampire in the room and the only thing preventing him from attacking him or Zacky being a bicycle chain, it was going to be a very intense, nerve-wracking wait. The Rev just hoped that whoever decided to help was on their way, or they were all royally screwed.


	32. Waking the Fallen

**_Somewhere else again_**  
  
Johnny sprang up onto the windowsill, body tensed, hackles bristling. Shamus crouched next to him, pink tongue lolling between his front canines.  
  
 _So, what are we going to do if we lose control of him, JC?_  
  
Johnny growled,  _The only thing we can do is run...run the fuck away...’cause you know how dangerous an angry vamp can be._  
  
Shamus rumbled as he peeked through the dirty glass.  _Truth. I wish Patrick were here.  
  
Well, kid...he’s watching over Pierre’s girl. He can’t be in two places at once._ Johnny rubbed his nose against the glass then lifted a paw to scratch at the metal frame. He could see The Rev through the glass; the lanky vampire appeared to be having a heated conversation with Pierre who was chained to the bed.  
  
Shamus grunted and rubbed the side of his face against left foreleg.  _Why’d you drag me along? I mean...I’ve just met the vamp once. I hardly know him._  
  
Johnny shook his head hackles still up as Zacky, who had been sitting in the shadows, approached the window and carefully slid it open.  
  
You were just there...Johnny had stopped by the little hideout in the city to find the younger Were playing cards by himself.  _And you looked bored._  
  
Shamus flicked his tail in acknowledgement.  _True, I was. I’m sure this’ll make up for it though._  
  
Johnny nodded his head then crawled through the space that Zacky had made, jumping down to the floor. The younger Werewolf slithered in behind him and looked toward the bed where Pierre was straining against his bonds.  
  
 _Shit...you think those’re gonna hold?_  
  
Zacky bristled at Shamus’ tone. “Whoever the hell you are, yes. They’ll hold. We’re not stupid.”  
  
Johnny stepped in fur bristling at his throat.  _He never said you were. This is Shamus, Pat’s half brother, but that’s really not-_  
  
“Yeah, yeah...okay. Not important.” Zacky cut him off sharply before looking to the bed. Pierre had slumped down on the mattress his big body relaxed for the time being. “Any idea what we need to do about Bouvier?”  
  
 _Not sure. But, we need to get him out of here._  Johnny frowned closing his eyes for a moment. Then they snapped open again and he growled softly.  _Shads has an idea...wants us to bring him back to our bus._  
  
Zacky grumbled and turned to the bed; The Rev was already at the head detaching the chains from the board. Pierre groaned but made no move to retaliate. The younger male appeared somewhat sedated, a groggy expression in his eyes.  
  
Shamus yipped in curiosity,  _Did you drug him?_  
  
The Rev cast a sour glance at the younger Lycan. “You can’t drug vampires.”  
  
 _No?_  
  
“No. But, you can knock their central control out a little. It’s not a drug...more like...mind control.” The Rev grasped the ends of the bike chain whilst supporting Pierre’s weight against his shoulder. He nudged the younger male’s mind with his own whilst speaking in a low voice. “C’mon, Bouvier...shake a leg.”  
  
Pierre’s lip curled faintly as he attempted to straighten his frame, but he was finding it difficult to stand. The Rev clucked his tongue and slapped him firmly on the shoulder. A jolt of energy shot through Pierre’s body, and his eyes blazed suddenly.  
  
“What the fuck?” His lips peeled back from his fangs and he snarled savagely.  
  
Zacky backed up, Johnny rumbled in his throat and Shamus fair nearly jumped out of his coat.  
  
 _Damn...we should go, eh?_  
  
The Rev rolled his eyes and without further ado disappeared with Pierre. Johnny jumped after them, vanishing into the atmosphere. Shamus whined; Zacky looked down at him and touched his fingertips to his scruff.  
  
“Come on, pup...we don’t wanna miss this.” With that the vampire whisked them away from the apartment block back to the Avenged bus; back to join the others.  
  
 _ **Avenged Bus  
  
Few moments earlier**_  
  
“Gates! Get your ass out here now!”  
  
Synyster grimaced as he put down the guitar he was tuning, poking his head out an open window. Peering into the darkness he attempted to find the source of the master vampire’s voice.  
  
He jerked back as Shadows appeared directly in front of him. “Jesus...warn a male, why don’t you?”  
  
Shadows snarled in response. “When I want a fucking comment, I’ll ask for one. Get off the fucking bus.”  
  
“What? Why?” Syn started asking but then noticed Sherry who was hovering close by the Master’s shoulder. “What the fuck? I thought you were gonna off her?”  
  
The female tensed at his question.  
  
Shadows bared his fangs at his Lieutenant, and spoke in a low voice, the tone dangerous, “Serena is my fucking mate. She stays with me. And I don’t want any more fucking comments from you.” He grabbed the front of the other vampire’s shirt and tugged him toward the exit. “Now. Off. This area’s about to become a Hell Gate.”  
  
The brown-eyed vampire froze. He dug in his heels and stared hard at Shadows. “What did you say?”  
  
The master vampire grunted in frustration, but did not answer. He just gave Syn a cold look and with a single thought vanished him from the bus, dumping him on his arse several metres away under a tree. _And stay there, Gates, unless you want to get fried._  
  
Shadows breathed out roughly; then, closing his eyes he willed himself to the top of the bus. Sherry transported herself to the shade of another tree and stared toward the bus, biting her bottom lip hard. Synyster crawled over from the tree he had landed under and crouched near her, growling low. She cast a wary look his way but then looked back toward the bus.  
  
The large male growled even more, then spoke roughly to her, “Gonna tell me what the hell is going on?”  
  
Sherry trembled and pointed with her chin. “Watch, my lord.”  
  
The male followed her directive and fixed his gaze upon the master vampire. A sensation the lieutenant hadn’t felt in many centuries flooded his nerves and a cold shiver ran down his spine.  
  
Shadows stood, feet spread atop the double-decker bus. He scanned the darkened horizon before tugging his top off. Then he held his arms out on either side of his body, palms facing upward. He squeezed his eyes shut, head tilted back, mouth opening in a silent call. Moonlight glinted off the pure white of his elongated fangs. Saliva gleamed at the deadly tips. The lunar light bathed the tattoos on his bared torso; the deathbat splayed across his abs seemed to move beneath the glow.  
  
And then the glow intensified, deepening to a burgundy colour like that of matured wine. Blood red flashes burst out around his tall frame.  
  
“Holy shit!” Syn exclaimed his breath quickening. “What the hell is he doing?”  
  
Sherry swallowed hard before answering her voice barely audible. “Calling on the Fallen One.”  
  
Syn moved to stand next to her in a flash. “Are you fucking for real?”  
  
Before Sherry could answer, there was a soft flash of light as The Rev appeared with Pierre straining menacingly in his grasp.  
  
“Yeah, she’s for real, Gates,” The Rev managed to get out whilst wrestling the bigger male to the ground and sitting on him.  
  
Pierre snarled, clicking his fangs together. “Bitch...”  
  
Synyster’s pupils dilated in shock. “Crap, this is whack.”  
  
The Rev rolled his eyes then looked to the top of the bus. Pierre, who had gone still beneath him, followed his gaze as well and rumbled in the back of his throat. Shadows was still bathed in moon glow, but now he was looking toward them a strange look in his eyes. Then he lifted his eyes to the heavens and shivered staring at a point far in the distance. A point of red light pierced the clouds and zeroed in upon the master vampire.  
  
Synyster stated gruffly, “This is crazy. Does he know what he’s doing?”  
  
The Rev snorted but he did concede, “No more than Vengeance did decades ago.”  
  
Pierre blinked and twisted his head round to look at the elder vampire. The Rev ignored him, barely giving him a slight push in the small of his back, a warning for Pierre to remain still.  
  
“What’re you saying?” Zacky appeared with Shamus and Johnny, the younger werewolf looking decidedly anxious.  
  
The Rev glanced over to the three of them, focussing on the vampire. “You. Calling the Fallen One.”  
  
Zacky grimaced; he remembered the outcome of that incident, and he knew that what he had done had destroyed the integrity of the vampire species. But the one who had been most adversely affected was Shadows. Unintentionally, the younger vampire had sold the soul of the Master Vampire to the Devil in the hope that it would alter their fortunes.  
  
But all it ended up doing was screwing them all over completely. It had lead to a myriad of circumstances, which had drawn the Master Vampire deeper and deeper into a life he would never have lived if he had had the choice.  
  
That was one decision that Zachary Baker should never have made. Even he realised that it had been a major misjudgement on his part. He sighed wearily and looked toward the bus where Shadows was poised beneath a shaft of red light.  
  
“This could get ugly. I didn’t know what in Hells name I was doing back then.”  
  
The Rev snorted as he said, “Yeah, but you’re not Matthew.”  
“True. Still, the devil still managed to trick him.”  
  
“But, only ‘cause you sold the master’s soul to him.”  
  
Zachary shook his head, his snakebites flashing in the ever burgeoning red glow. “That was not my intention.”  
  
The tall vampire frowned at the younger one, but then swung his head back toward the bus, just as Shadows let out a low, menacing snarl. The Rev stiffened, and at the same time he felt Pierre’s body tense below him. He glanced down at the large male and scowled.  
  
“Sit tight, Bouvier. This could be your salvation.”  
  
Pierre sneered, “Yeah, right.” He surged under The Rev. “Get off me.”  
  
In response to his demand, The Rev shifted again, settling all his weight on the other vampire’s back. Pierre grunted frustration evident in the sound.  
  
The elder vampire just smirked. “Suck it up, Bouvier.”  
Pierre growled but then stopped when a voice spoke from the shaft of light. He looked toward the bus again. Shadows had straightened; his lips were peeled back from his fangs, which were elongated, bared in fighting mode. Hovering in front of him was a darker shadow, flashes of red and green light crackling across the surface of the figure. The shadow spoke, the voice distorted, sounding like many different voices; it sent uneasy tingles down the spines of all who were present.  
  
“Matthew Charles Sanders, first of the Masters. You dare summon the Lord of the Dark?”  
  
Shadows gritted out savagely, “Yes. Damn you, I have a problem I wish to rectify.”  
  
The shadow pulsed with energy an amused tone in its next words. “A problem; and what pray would that be?”  
  
The Master Vampire drew his body up to its full height and pegged the malevolent figure with a hard stare, eyes burning bright. “I want my soul back. And then I want you to fucking fix my son.”  
  
The shadow darkened, if that were at all possible. Shadows tensed, muscles coiled ready for anything. The others were all in similar states of readiness. Synyster moved away from Serena, crouching hand on a knife he had hidden in his back pocket, fangs showing slightly. The Rev pressed a hand in the small of Pierre’s back, the other male growling low in the back of his throat. Zachary remained where he had initially materialised, Johnny and Shamus, both still in wolf form, crouching on either side watching on with twin expressions of apprehension.  
  
The shadow laughed coldly, the sound sending chills down the spines of all who were present. Then it responded in harsh tones.  
  
“And, how exactly do you propose I do that? None of this is my doing.” It turned its presence toward the other vampires and lifted a clouded limb, pointing at Zachary. “This is his doing, my young Master Vampire. If you have not forgotten? He summonsed me...and threw you into this mess.”  
  
Shadows snarled, “What are you saying, that I must sacrifice my own to fix this?”  
  
The shadow laughed a deep rumbling sound. “No. But he is the one who must needs to confront me.”  
  
The master vampire closed his eyes then swung around, leaping off the top of the bus and crossing toward the younger vampire. Zachary swallowed hard as Shadows approached.  
  
“Master...”  
  
Shadows stared hard at him, then looked toward the figure atop the bus. Then back at the green-eyed male.  
  
“Baker.” His voice was low, raspy. “We have to do this.”  
  
Zachary squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment. Johnny, crouched next to the young vampire, yipped low. Shadows looked down at him and grimaced.  
  
“Johnny...” He shook his head and looked back at Zachary. “C’mon. I promise...after all this...”  
  
Zachary shook his head, eyes snapping open. “I’ll do what has to be done. Fuck...I’m sick of all this. And, he’s right,” he nodded toward the shadowy figure, “this was my fault originally. And, if I’m the only one who can set things to right.” He paused, clearing his throat roughly whilst giving each of the others a quick look. “Then, I’ll suck it up and face it.”  
  
Shadows let out a breath he hadn’t even realised he was holding. Reaching over, he clapped a hand to Zachary’s shoulder, squeezing hard. “Thank you, V. You don’t realise-”  
  
“I do, Matthew. I know.” The younger vampire cut him off gently. Then turning toward the bus, and steeling himself, he went forward to face his destiny.  
  
 __ **Simple Plan Bus**  
  
Same time  
  
“David, get out of the way!”  
  
David practically fled out of his skin at the sound of Patrick’s voice, just as he and Seb materialised in the middle of the bus. The bassist held a hand to his chest and turned to stare at them. Before he could make some sort of protest though, his gaze fell upon the figure cradled in Pat’s arms.  
  
“Lachelle?” David held a hand to his mouth.  
  
Pat gave a curt nod. “Yeah, move aside. I gotta get her into a bunk.”  
  
“Oh, right.” David stepped to the side, peering at Lachelle’s slumbering figure. Her long blonde hair fell in a way which hid the damage that had been done to her. Not that there was much bruising left. Pat and his sister had taken care of that. Healing was something Werewolves were quite proficient at.  
  
David trailed Seb and Pat as they headed for the sleeping area. He hung back, observing as Pat gently laid Lachelle in one of the spare bunks, tucking the blanket around her slender figure. Once he was done, he stepped back, leaned against the opposite bunk and gave a deep sigh.  
  
David rubbed at the tip of his nose. “How...is she?”  
  
Pat glanced at the bassist, but said nothing.  
  
Seb shook his head. “She’ll be okay, right, Pat?”  
  
Pat’s head tilted down slightly in acknowledgement. Then he decided to at least give a small answer to his friend’s inquisitive look. “We got to her in time. She’ll pull through. At least physically.” He pursed his lips. “Mentally and emotionally...well, I have no idea how she’ll be.”  
  
David nodded then slapped his hand against the wall. “Fuck. I can’t believe...Pierre...”  
  
Pat gave him a look. “Yeah? Well, that’s the way it is. I just fucking hope that Shads can fix things.”  
  
David frowned. “You trust him now? I mean, I thought this was his fault?”  
  
Pat’s lip curled. But, he didn’t answer this time and just looked over at Lachelle a strained expression on his face. The bassist made to say something else, but Pat stopped him, holding a hand up.  
  
“Don’t, David. Circumstances have changed.” He lowered his hand by his side again. “It’s...things have changed.” Pat shook his head, not wanting to elaborate. David sensed this and didn’t press. Instead he pulled himself up onto his bunk and leaned back.  
  
“So, what now?”  
  
Pat smiled grimly. “We wait.”  
  
“Ugh,” David snorted. “I hate waiting.”  
  
“Yeah, me too buddy.” Pat sighed and glanced at Seb. The younger man tilted his head, then looked toward David.  
  
“Where’re the others?”  
  
“Downstairs. Watching a movie. I think.”  
  
Pat breathed out roughly. “Right, well let’s go join ‘em. Nothing else we can do.”  
  
“No?” David frowned. Pat nodded and headed for the steps. Seb followed without a word. David watched after them for a long moment; then, heaving a sigh traipsed behind them.


	33. Vengeance is the final word

_Zachary stands at the edge of insanity, as he lifts his head to the Dark form that hovers before him. A menacing cloud of energy, giving off lightning flashes of red and green, with deeper black light warping around his form. Steeling his mind, the vampire lifts his hands, palms facing upwards and holds them out toward the Dark Lord.  
  
“I command you,” Zachary’s voice wavers not an iota, as he speaks to the devil. The being gives a hard bark of laughter, a sound like a million nails raking across a metal post.  
  
Zachary’s green eyes light up like jewels in the stark white of his face; he repeats in a deeper voice than is usual, “I command you, Lucifer.”  
  
“You command me? You worthless blood sucking demon?” The devil’s laughter intensifies. “You have no idea what you’re doing, how could you possibly dare to think you could command me? I could reduce you to dust as easy as a single breath.” The malevolent spirit hisses his threat, sending a heavy wave of power toward the vampire.  
  
Zachary grits his teeth as the atmosphere seems to close in around him. His whole world has been reduced to this moment; nothing else exists for him except for the devil and himself. Now is the time to make right the wrongs that have been done.  
  
It has been many years since he first summonsed the devil. Yet, he knows he has grown in strength and ability; he is not the naive, wet-behind-the-ears youngling he was back then.  
  
“Yes,” he raises his voice to drown out the devil’s laughter, “I command you! Be gone, you devil!”  
  
More laughter. “How B Grade of you...”  
  
Zachary snarls, fangs flashing savagely.  
  
“I command you in the name of the-” he starts but then halts, shakes his head and slaps his palms together in front of him, eyes narrowing as he slips from English to Latin, murmuring a low curse.  
  
The formless haze that encompasses the similarly shapeless body of the devil begins to darken and expand, rising above them. Tendrils of smoke snake from it down toward the vampire, swirling around his body.  
  
Zachary allows his eyes to drift upwards as he keeps murmuring silent curses, which then shift into soft blessings, his breaths steady, even as the devil attacks him, probing with its smoky appendages. He tenses, pupils almost completely overcome by the green of his irises. He growls in the back of his throat.  
  
The devil keeps pushing at him, causing bile to rise in the back of his throat, a strong urge to surrender to the darkness pressing in all around him. Zachary snarls more, biting down hard his fangs clinking against his snakebites, as he continues muttering, his gaze focused determinedly on the heavens above.  
  
A spiralling vortex of air forms at the base of the cloud, diving down from the darkness and attaching itself to the crown of the devil’s amorphous form. Then it begins to pull with an immense surge of power.  
  
The devil shrieks in fury as he is sucked into a cloud of oblivion bright green streaks of light exploding in every which direction like a mini sunburst. The young vampire stands below him hands still pressed together in prayer, fingertips pointing upwards. Eyes glowing like emeralds, he murmurs deep, penetrating words, words of destruction, and dismissal.  
  
The air screams around him as he stands in an epicentre of power and unbelievable energy. Light spills from his eyes and envelops him in an aura of light, which spreads out cleansing the surrounding atmosphere, chasing away the dark clouds, the last remnant of the devil’s touch.  
  
Afterwards, a terrible calm is felt, settling over the city. An ancient evil permeates the air, and then suddenly it disappears. Like a dark room, which is flooded with light, the heaviness is lifted and a sense of peace fills the heavens. Dark clouds slip away to reveal a clear night sky, stars twinkling bright and filled with hope.  
  
And, Zachary stumbles away from the bus and sinks to the ground, giving in to nature and letting everything go._  
  
 _ **Later, on SP’s Bus**_  
  
“That’s Luigi Mario, you dumbfuck!”  
  
“Pat, shut up. Nobody cares.” Chuck rolled his eyes as his friend railed at the characters on the small screen.  
  
Pat looked over at him and scowled. “I care, alright. As much as I care that-” He halted mid-phrase, all his senses pricking up. He whipped his head round and lifted it slightly, nostrils flaring. Chuck caught his motion, frowning faintly, and looking around as well.  
  
Pat saw though and shook his head. “It’s not something you can see, Chuck. Something’s happened.” He paused, before adding, “Something to do with Pierre.”  
  
As soon as the singer’s name left his lips, the others clambered around him, like little kids gathering around a Christmas tree. David sat forward, hands bracing against his knees, eyes wide.  
  
“What is it, Pat? Is he okay? Can we go see?” The bassist’s words came stumbling out before the Were could say anything. “Can we, Pat?”  
  
Patrick didn’t answer right away, instead continuing to take in the signals he had picked up. Grimacing, he stood and headed for the steps that lead to the door. Pounding the keypad, waiting for the door to open, he glanced back at the others a grave expression on his face.  
  
“I’m going outside. Join me if you want.”  
  
Only Chuck took up the Were’s offer, following him out into the cool night air. Pat glanced back at the drummer as he made his way across the parking lot to a lone tree. Leaning up against the slender trunk, he looked thoughtfully at the younger male.  
  
“What do you make of all this, Chuck?”  
  
Chuck bit at his bottom lip as he sat tailor-style by the other man. Fiddling with the end of his belt and grimacing faintly, he shook his head slowly.  
  
“I’m not sure. I can’t stop thinking about what happened. What you said.” The drummer looked at Pat. “Pierre really hurt Chelle bad, didn’t he?”  
  
Pat nodded slowly, scratching at his arm, observing the many different emotions that passed across his friend’s face. When Chuck made no other comment, Pat gave a low growl, shifting his weight. The drummer tilted his head. Pat slapped his palm against his left thigh and looked up into the sky.  
  
Then he sighed. “She’ll be ‘kay though.”  
  
“Yeah, you said.” Chuck glanced toward the bus to the top level, where he knew Lachelle was resting in one of the bunks.  
  
Pat smiled weakly. “My Dad had a hideout in town. She was safe there, so that’s why we took her down there first. Pierre couldn’t even find it if he wanted to. It’s hidden unless a Were leads you there.”  
  
He slid down so he was sitting on the ground, the tree supporting his spine. “But, she needs to be with us, so that’s why I brought her back to the bus. She’s healing, and I can keep an eye on her better here.”  
  
Chuck nodded as he lay back on the ground looking up at the stars.  
“So, anyway, what did you sense?”  
  
Pat glanced over at the drummer. “Something. Darkness. We won’t know what happened until after. But...I’ve a feeling Pierre will be back soon.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
Pat frowned deeply, staring out across the parking lot. “Yeah.”  
  
“Is that good?” Chuck asked, watching the Were.  
  
Pat shrugged, turning his head to the drummer, anxiety evident on his face. “No idea, Chuck. I don’t have a fucking clue.” Slipping a hand into his front jeans pocket, he curled his fingers around his Rosaries, rubbing each bead as he returned his gaze to the horizon. The drummer moved closer to him, following suit, looking out into the distance.  
  
The two friends remained in silence, waiting, for there was nothing else they could do, except wait and see what happened.  
  
 _ **Meanwhile...  
Avenged Sevenfold Bus  
11 PM**_  
  
“Now what? Now what the fuck do we do? Nothing even fucking changed!”  
  
Synyster was right up in Shadows’ face, snarling in frustration. Several feet from them, Zachary stood bent over at the waist, puking up. His wet heaves was causing the others to send sympathetic, yet slightly disgusted looks his way. Not that he noticed because he was far too busy dumping the contents of his stomach and his soul all over the ground.  
  
After several long moments, Syn still railing at Shadows, the younger vampire straightened and called for their attention. “Oi. Stop it. Just fuckin’...stop. Alright? He’s gone. For good.”  
  
Zachary groaned. He looked extremely pale. Much paler even than during the early era of the band when they had all painted themselves with pale makeup to create the illusion of them being vampires.  
  
Panting, he went on, “He’s no longer influencing all this shit...” He looked directly at the master vampire. “Just look into your soul, Shads...you’ll find the proof there.” He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth before feeling another lurch coming on and hurling once more.  
  
Shadows grimaced, but it was Sherry who crept over to the young vampire and placed a hand on his shoulder the look on her face suggesting she wished to ease his distress. Zachary turned to her, smiling weakly. The master vampire felt an inexplicable sense of tenderness as he watched them. Though, his contemplation was interrupted by Syn’s next barrage of complaints.  
  
“Look at Pierre, what the hell has this done for him?”  
  
Shadows turned to look where his lieutenant was waving his hand. The Rev was still sitting on top of Pierre, who was lying, surprisingly, quiet on the ground. His dark eyes were taking everything in, an expression of awe still evident in his expression from the scene they had all just witnessed.  
  
Shadows rubbed his jaw, shaking his head. But, before he responded, he took Zachary’s advice, closing his eyes so as to search inside himself. Clear, everything was clear, more so than it had ever been before. Blinking rapidly, he swung round to face his lieutenant, jaw clenching tight.  
  
“You want to know what  _this_  has done?” He inclined his head toward Zachary who was crouching by Sherry, face in hand. Shadows kept his gazed locked with the brown-eyed vampire, repeating harshly, “You want to know?”  
  
Synyster growled, drawing his body to its full height, which still wasn’t as tall as the Master Vampire. “Yeah, enlighten me, Shads.”  
  
Shadows took several deep breaths, glancing over to the top of the bus, still able to envision what had just passed. He hadn’t seen anything like it in his two thousand years of life. Considering he hadn’t witnessed the first summoning of the devil, it was entirely alien to him. It was a gut-wrenching, heart-aching experience. Yet, at the same time it had cleansed his soul, renewed it. He felt different than he had ever done so before. And that was definitely something worth more than just a mere life.  
  
“It’s changed everything, Brian. Everything. It’s changed me. I am not the vampire I was before, and that’s a great thing.” Shadows paused in his stream of words, breathing hard. Then he went on. “I have my soul back, Syn; and that means everything.”  
  
Synyster rolled his eyes. “What about the rest of us?”  
  
“You never lost yours.” Shadows laughed sadly, mumbling, “Never had one to begin with.”  
  
“Hey, that’s a bit below the belt,” his lieutenant grumbled. The master vampire shrugged off his protest, it was of no importance, and turned back toward Pierre and The Rev. The tall vampire was no longer pinning the singer to the ground. Pierre was sitting upright, kneading at his temples. The Rev sat beside him, rubbing absently at his arms.  
  
Shadows bit at his bottom lip, fangs protruding. “Pierre.”  
  
Pierre lifted his head to meet the elder vampire’s questioning stare. “Yeah?” His face was impossible to read, whatever he thought was not available for Shadows to discern. The master vampire grimaced, searching for the right words to speak.  
  
Pierre got there first. “Nothing’s changed.” He growled low. “I still feel the same. Still wanna rip you to pieces, you bastard.”  
  
Shadows raked his fingers wearily through his hair. “All the more reason for me to do what I’m about to do.”  
  
“And what might that be?” Pierre sneered, baring his own fangs viciously.  
  
Shadows moved forward so he was standing above him. Glowering down at the vampire who was his son, he breathed out roughly, “Stand up.”  
  
Pierre hissed, muscles tensing. “Why?”  
  
“Just stand up.” Shadows was in no mood to be messed with.  
  
The others turned to watch; Zachary was leaning up against Synyster, Johnny and the younger Were watched on silently beside them. Serena, and Luna who had materialised, sensing what had happened, also stood by watching on.  
  
Pierre slowly, keeping his eyes locked upon Shadows’ big body, rose to his feet to confront him. He breathed deeply, nostrils flaring, eyes taking in every twitch of Shadows’ muscles.  
  
“Now what?” Pierre muttered, eyebrows rising. Shadows’ lip curled and he circled the smaller male; Pierre turned though so he could keep his gaze fixed on the master vampire. “Well, Shadows? Now what’re you gonna do?”  
  
The master vampire’s lips peeled back from his fangs as he halted directly in front of Pierre; his pupils dilated almost swallowing up the hazel of his irises. “Look at me, son.”  
  
Pierre growled, but something inside compelled him to obey the command. He blinked once before allowing his eyes to meet the dark pits of Shadows’ and a chill coursed up his spine then spread through his body like an ice-cold wave.  
  
Their eyes locked together and something flowed between them, some electrifying power, energy. The others all felt it, the hair, and fur, at the back of each of their necks rose in response to the charged sensations spilling from the two vampires. A tangible link formed between them and then before any of them could blink something broke.  
  
A loud crackle of energy split the air, and rolled like thunder, a shockwave of energy emanating from between Pierre and Shadows. They all stared, watching as Pierre blinked once, and then his eyes rolled back in his head and he crashed to the ground, his body spasming as if trying to be rid of whatever pent up energy had build up inside him.  
  
“Holy shit!” Zachary gasped.  
  
Sherry’s face mirrored his shock and she scrambled forward to Pierre’s side. Shadows debated whether he should stop her, but judging by the expression in her eyes, there probably wasn’t any point. Right now, she was the terrified mother who wanted to make the world right for her child. So, he would let her be.  
  
Shadows breathed hard having felt the link between them snap abruptly, feeling a tender ache in his chest. Pressing a hand over his heart he stood there, eyes fixed on Pierre’s prone form. Sherry leaned over him, a small hand resting against his chest, as she tried to rouse him.  
  
“Pierre, come on...please...” Sherry closed her eyes, shifting even closer so she was almost laying over him. Shadows hissed through his teeth, looking at The Rev who was standing back a little looking as if he wanted to intervene, but at the same time not wanting to get in the way.  
  
“Jimmy?”  
  
The tall vampire glanced over at the master’s use of his Christian name. “Yeah, Matt?”  
  
“Anything you can do?” Shadows nodded to Pierre and Sherry.  
  
The Rev shook his head slowly. “No. It’s not for me to interfere.”  
  
Shadows swore roughly and moved to kneel next to Sherry. He felt her stiffen slightly; he clenched his jaw tight, knowing he shouldn’t have expected anything less than her wariness. He knew she was still afraid of him, regardless of the understanding they had. Pushing those thoughts away, though, he focused his attention on Pierre.  
  
“I don’t think talking to him like that will wake him.” He spoke in a low voice so as not to spook her. Sherry swung her head round to look at him; there was fear in her eyes. She was horrified by the turn of events and Shadows couldn’t say that he blamed her. He was stunned by what had just happened as well. He had not expected Pierre to go out for the count. However, as long as no permanent damage had been done, that was all that mattered.  
  
Shadows reached out and laid a hand next to hers, on Pierre’s chest. It rose and fell slightly, a sure sign that he was at least still alive. Whatever had happened hadn’t mortally wounded him, luckily. Sherry blinked, staring at his hand then up into his face.  
  
“Sire? What do we do?”  
  
Shadows took a deep breath then let it out in a weary sigh. “Matt...”  
  
“Pardon?” Sherry lifted an eyebrow.  
  
The master vampire shook his head at her. “Call me Matt. Not, sire...not master...I’m not that to you...not anymore. Just Matt...or Matthew, whichever you prefer.”  
  
Sherry looked away, gazing upon their son, lips drawn in a hard line. Shadows sighed again, removing his hand and sitting back. He sensed that trying to talk to her probably wasn’t such a good plan and so he nodded to Pierre, turning the conversation back to him.  
  
“We should get him back to the Simple Plan bus. I’m sure Pat and the others will want to make sure he’s okay.”  
  
Sherry scoffed suddenly, an edge to her voice, “Yeah, if he is it’ll be no thanks to you.”  
  
Shadows closed his eyes fighting the instinct to lash out at her for her candidness. He had no right to come down on her, and she was right in a way. All of this was his fault, if he hadn’t been so Hell bent [no pun intended] on controlling Pierre, none of this would ever have eventuated. Pierre would be still living a relatively peaceful life. Well, as peaceful a life any vampire could ever live at least. But, he wouldn’t have had to contend with a power hungry, blood thirsty master vampire.  
  
He opened them again and inclined his head in her direction. “I’ll concede that, Serena.”  
  
Sherry stared at him then took several deep breaths before responding. “That’s...good.”  
  
Shadows smirked faintly. “Well, for a badass like me, I guess that’s an accomplishment...y’know, doing good.”  
  
Sherry smiled then, a soft expression appearing in her eyes. She didn’t need to say anything though, what she was thinking, feeling was clearly written on her face and it was like a light to the master vampire, a bright guiding light drawing him from the depths of his darkness.  
  
Before he ran the risk of getting mushy at the sentimental feelings that were building inside him, Shadows shifted his weight and cleared his throat. “Right. We need to move him.”  
  
The Rev spoke up from where he was standing, Luna now by his side. “You and Serena should take Pierre, we’ll stay here.” He glanced around at the others. Zachary was sitting down, forehead resting against his knees, still recovering. Synyster was crouching by him watching on in stupefied silence. Johnny and Shamus sat by tongues lolling from their mouths, equally as silent as Syn.  
  
Luna agreed with The Rev, her eyes bright and warm as she looked steadily upon her brother. “Yes. He’s your son. You should do the right thing by him...after all, what are parents for?”  
  
Shadows pinched at the bridge of his nose, feeling tension all over his body. Sherry sat watching him. He lowered his hand and met her wary look.  
  
“Serena?”  
  
The female swallowed hard then reached out to him. He bared his fangs ever so little, but then took the hand she proffered, squeezing it gently.  
  
“Shall we?”  
  
She nodded firmly. “Let’s do this.”  
  
Shadows rumbled in his throat as he turned his eyes onto Pierre’s still body, resting his free hand on his arm, he closed his eyes, murmuring low. Sherry gripped his hand tightly, resting her other on Pierre’s hand.  
  
The others stood back anxious expressions on their faces, which Shadows took in as he gave them all one last look before he vanished, taking Sherry and Pierre with him.  
  
 _ **Simple Plan Bus  
Same time**_  
  
Patrick stiffened, sitting up from the tree trunk, eyes narrowing, fingers tightening on his beads. Chuck looked over at him.  
  
“What, Pat?”  
  
Pat tilted his head, not answering. His nostrils flared and he turned his head slowly. He sensed something, very close. Then, springing to his feet he practically ran back to the bus. The drummer followed on his heels, and as they scrambled back onto the bus, they were just in time to see Shadows materialise in the middle of the lounge area. In time to see David almost jump right out of his skin and yell out in shock.  
  
“Holy crap! Don’t do that!”  
  
Shadows didn’t bother apologising to the stunned bassist. His head swung around his eyes locking on Patrick as he stepped into the aisle of the bus.  
  
“Wolf,” the vampire’s voice rasped out, “Clear some space.”  
  
Pat judged by the expression in the master vampire’s eyes that his best course of action was to do exactly what he said. So, he hurried to the lounge, tossing magazines and random crap off it onto the floor. The big vampire nodded in gratitude, and then a familiar form took shape upon the cleared piece of furniture.  
  
“Christ Almighty...” Pat breathed in hushed tones.  
  
“Pierre?” Chuck stared. David did as well, yet for a change was unable to form any words. Shadows nodded tightly, noting to himself that Serena hadn’t appeared. That was probably for the best, considering all that had happened. It would be too much for him to expect them to meet Pierre’s mother without even more confusion.  
  
“Yeah. He’s out though. I don’t know how long for.” He looked at Pat. “You might have to be prepared to feed him as soon as he wakes.”  
  
Pat looked hard at the master vampire. “What happened?”  
  
Shadows smeared a hand over his face as he explained the short version of the night’s events. “We summoned the devil...Zachary destroyed him...somehow...and then Pierre and I confronted each other...and I broke something between us. Knocked him out cold.” He paused trying to think if he had missed anything out. “That’s it, really. I guess Pierre will tell you anything more when he comes around.”  
  
Pat stood there silently, allowing what the vampire had told him to sink in. After several long minutes, he moved to sit next to Pierre’s head.  
  
Then, looking down at the floor, he murmured low, “Thanks...for bringing him back.” There was another long silence where Chuck and David looked between the Were and the vampire, curious to hear what would be said next.  
  
Then Shadows spoke in an equally low voice, “He’s my son, Patrick. I owed it to him.” He grimaced then added roughly, “I owed it to his mother, too.”  
  
Pat lifted his head, eyes hard. “Serena Volaire.”  
  
“Yes. And you needn’t fear for her. I haven’t harmed her,” Shadows smiled weakly.  
  
The Werewolf blinked at him then laughed sadly. “You know what? I actually believe you.” He laughed a little more. “And, you know what else?”  
  
“What?” Shadows cocked his head to the side.  
  
Pat grinned, hazel eyes suddenly bright. “It’s a great feeling.” The joy he felt was evident in his whole being; Shadows had a feeling if Pat was Wolf’d his tail would have been wagging as fast as possible. He chuckled at the image as he stepped back, preparing to leave.  
  
“Good to hear, Pat...” He blinked several times, his mind already thinking ahead to the debriefing he needed. “I’ll leave you now...give Pierre a couple of hours to wake...”  
  
Pat nodded. The other two lifted their hands to wave; Shadows smiled at them, fangs flashing as he vanished. Chuck and David stared nonplussed at where the vampire had been standing then looked at Pierre.  
  
“Now what?” The drummer frowned.  
  
Pat sighed leaning his head back against the window. “We wait...some more.”  
  
David groaned, “That’s all we seem to be doing lately.”  
  
Chuck snorted. “If you don’t want to wait, go to bed. Seb and Jeff already did. Before.”  
  
The bassist shook his head, settling down next to Pat. “No. I’ll wait.”  
  
In the end, though, David  _and_  Chuck fell asleep where they sat, leaving Pat the lone soul awake and waiting for Pierre to resurface.


	34. New Purposes

_**Monday May 26th, 2008  
SP bus...  
6 AM**_  
  
His head felt as if it was stuffed with cotton wool. That was the first coherent thought that came to Pierre’s mind, as he regained consciousness. The second was that he felt something soft lying over his naked body. Groaning, and closing a fist around the material, he gathered it was a blanket. Prying his eyes open, he blinked up at the small row of lights that heralded the fact that he was back on the band’s bus. He frowned, wondering vaguely how he had gotten there.  
  
Shifting on what he realised was one of the long lounges, he allowed his bleary eyes to roam around the confined space. His gaze fell upon Pat who was slumped in exhaustion between the other lounge and the floor. Seeing his friend asleep, looking so drained sent a stab of remorse spearing into his heart. He gritted his teeth and muttered a silent curse.  
  
 _Fuck...I’m so sorry for this shit, Pat..._  Pierre squeezed his eyes shut, pressing a fist into his eyes, rubbing hard. He felt heaviness in his chest; his heart had been wounded. He could remember everything he had done, and he knew how much pain and frustration he had caused. It was all now welling inside him, tearing him apart, causing his head to pound like a hoard of angry elephants were stampeding through his mind.  
  
He groaned at the sensation, leaning a forearm over his eyes, before lowering it and closing them tight. _I’m so fucking...sorry..._  
  
There was a heartbeat of quiet and then a groggy voice answered him. “Apology accepted...”  
  
Pierre’s eyes snapped open, and he jerked around, his head feeling it would fall away from his neck. Pat had woken, and was looking at the vampire with a grave expression adorning his features.  
  
Pierre groaned, shaking his head. “No. Pat...” He couldn’t allow Pat to say that. He didn’t feel up to being forgiven, didn’t deserve it for that matter. “No,” he repeated roughly.  
  
The Were held up a hand. “Yes, Pierre. Apology accepted. It’s going to be okay.” He sat up and leaned forward, pegging the vampire with a serious look. “You don’t have to worry.”  
  
Pierre grimaced rubbing at his forehead. He couldn’t get his head around the notion that he was forgiven, just like that. Not after his actions. Not after what he did to-  
  
“Lachelle?” He chanced a look at his friend. “Is she okay?”  
  
Pat’s brow furrowed as he met the anxious look on Pierre’s face. The vampire could see thoughts churning in the Were’s mind as if he felt the sincerity behind the vampire’s words and seemed to have figured, after a moment’s deliberation, that it would be safe to tell him. “She will be. She’s here on the bus so I can keep an eye on her progress.”  
  
Pierre blanched. “Here?”  
  
Pat nodded slowly. “Yeah. You can go see, if you want?”  
  
The vampire looked away, sinking a fang into his bottom lip. He trembled, shaking his head as he hunched his shoulders. There was no way he was ready to even look at his ex, not since he had attacked her. He had no right to even think of her. That was what he believed. He had hurt her; no self-respecting male would do such a thing to someone they loved. His breath hitched. Someone he loved...  
  
“Fuck...Pat...I could’ve killed her.” Pierre’s voice was drawn tight, so much so that it sounded as if his vocal cords would break from the tension. He lifted his head to look at Pat. “I’ve completely screwed everything...”  
  
Pat tilted his head, but said nothing.  
  
Pierre closed his eyes then tucked his chin down against his chest, murmuring, “I’m no better than Shads when he tricked her into fucking him...” When Shads had confronted him a bond had formed between them, so strong that his memories had flowed and mingled with Pierre’s. Therefore, Pierre discovered the truth of everything that had passed in the last week or so. And then some.  
  
Pat folded his arms, grimacing more. Pierre opened his eyes and looked toward him. The Were felt a jolt go through his body as he stared into the dark knowing stare of the vampire. His gaze was ancient as if he had seen too many things in a short span of time. It was unnerving, yet, at the same time it was a little reassuring to know that Pierre was no longer in the dark about his whole situation.  
  
Pierre cleared his throat, gruffly, before starting up again. “She probably won’t ever be able to look at me again...but...that’s fine...” He paused, smearing the back of a hand over his face then laying his head back against the cushion Pat had pushed under his head. “I don’t deserve anything from any woman ever again...not after what I’ve done.” The he added, in a harsh whisper, “Not just to her, either...”  
  
Pierre closed his eyes for a long moment, silence falling between them. Pat shifted uncomfortably on the floor; Pierre cracked an eyelid, sensing his friend’s uneasiness.  
  
“Pat?”  
  
The Were coughed, before responding, hesitantly, “What happened last night? Between you and Shads?”  
  
Pierre sat up a little, but didn’t answer right away. Instead he stared hard at Pat as if he were attempting to see into his soul. Then he laughed sadly, the sound loud in the confined space. Pat shuffled around a bit more, glancing up at the vampire. The very tips of Pierre’s fangs were showing as his lips were parted slightly.  
  
“Pierre?”  
  
Pierre shook his head, eyes narrowing slightly as they shifted from Pat’s face to his neck. He saw Pat stiffen, but then the Were relaxed and he levered his body from the floor.  
  
“Damn, you need to feed, don’t you?”  
  
Pierre nodded tightly, murmuring, “I’ll feed...then I’ll tell you what happened.”  
  
Pat moved to kneel in front of his friend. He was about to go for the pocket knife in his pocket, when Pierre stopped him, laying a hand on his arm, a strange light in his eyes. Pat blinked as their eyes met; the vampire’s expression was grave, and he said not a word as he slowly lowered his mouth to the Were’s wrist.  
  
Carefully, he traced the tip of one fang along the thick blood vessel that lay just beneath the skin. Blood pumped steadily along its meandering way, a life force, and the one thing vampires could not live without. Then before Pat could say anything, Pierre scored a line deep along the wrist. Pat jerked slightly, Pierre held him still, a low purring sound issuing from his throat. The Were relaxed at the soft noise, it was almost soothing.  
  
Blood beaded then pooled out of the wound, but Pierre did not let it go to waste. He licked at it slowly, savouring the taste; it was thick, rich; before sealing his mouth over the cut and beginning to drink in deep, hungry pulls. He could feel Pat staring at him, incredulous, but he couldn’t focus on that, because as he took of the Were’s blood thoughts and memories that were not his own flooded into the vampire’s mind.  
  
One stood out in stark relief. Pat was in a Cathedral, praying to a statuette of the Mother Mary...and he could hear The Rev’s voice clear as a bell,  _I know who you really love..._  and then Pat’s later response _I’ve lost him..._  
  
Pierre shuddered at the memory, but kept feeding until he couldn’t take anymore. He pulled back, licking at the wound before wiping a hand over the back of his mouth. He glanced at Pat to gauge his reaction. The Were had his face downturned, as if he knew that Pierre had accessed his mind. The vampire leaned back more, putting some distance between them.  
  
“Pat.” Pierre’s voice was a low rumble, like thunder rolling within a settling storm. Pat didn’t look at him, standing and shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.  
  
“I gotta go check on Chelle. You need to rest more.”  
  
Pierre sighed, sensing that the Were wasn’t going to explain what he had seen from his mind, and probably wouldn’t ever. After all, Pat was happily taken by a female of his own species. The memory couldn’t have actually meant anything. He had probably just been so desperately anxious about Pierre’s predicament that the feelings were strong because of that. He wouldn’t push to figure it out, though.  
  
Nodding, he rubbed at his jaw. “I will. But...I gotta go pay Shads a visit first.”  
  
Pat grimaced, but didn’t try to dissuade him; however, he looked at Pierre hard. “Before you do, tell me what happened between you guys?”  
  
“He looked into my soul and I saw everything...just...” Pierre shook his head, still confused as to what had happened, even he couldn’t really explain. “Then it was like a lightning storm, but just between the two of us...inside...I don’t know...it was freaky as shit...and then next I knew I woke up here.” Pierre smirked faintly, “Seeing you sleeping there...that was the best thing I’ve seen in a long time...really warmed my soul.”  
  
Pat allowed himself a small smile in response. “Yeah? Well, I’m just glad you’ve got yours back in one piece.” He looked toward the stairs.  
  
Pierre swallowed hard. “Go to her, Pat. Look after her.” He closed his eyes and murmured as he began to disappear, “I’ll be back later...maybe I’ll go see her, then.” The last thing he saw before he blinked out of the bus, was the Were’s sad smile as he nodded then headed for the stairs.  
  
 ** _A7X Bus  
6:45 AM_**  
  
The master vampire was exhausted in a way he had never been in his two thousand years of life. His body ached, even though he hadn’t even been the one to depose of the evil. Zachary had done a good job there. He felt no small amount of pride for the younger vampire. Still, his mind wasn’t on that right now. No, his thoughts were directed elsewhere.  
  
Seated on a small bench that was bolted onto the floor of the bus, Shadows stared wearily upon the sleeping forms of his sister and his mate. They had crashed onto the lounge as soon as everything had blown over. Everyone else had gone to the bunks on the upper level; he had stayed below unable to sleep and deciding to watch over them, like some guardian angel. Even though, he had a feeling the two of them were quite safe without him...probably safer if he wasn’t anywhere near them. God knew he hadn’t done much good by either of them. Especially for Serena.  
  
Luna looked at peace, as she always did, no matter the circumstances. But then again, knowing the future did that to one. Sherry, Serena, on the other hand was tense even in slumber, her small hands clenched around the blanket he’d lain over her. He knew the why of it too. Everything he had put her through... He felt like the biggest asshole, but there really wasn’t any way he could take any of it back.  
  
Sighing, he rubbed at his face wondering if there was any way he could at least try and make up for it. There probably wasn’t, but perhaps trying to fix things with Pierre would help at least a little. He was their son. Serena had birthed him, he had...hell, what had he given him exactly? A big headache, most likely.  
  
Interrupting his thoughts, the voice of his lieutenant came from his left, silent footsteps crossing from the stairs. “You are so fucking pathetic.”  
  
Shadows turned his head, lips peeling back from his fangs as he glared at the unwelcome intrusion. “I wouldn’t suggest starting with me, Brian, I am so not in the mood.”  
  
The other vampire laughed, coldly. “No? But you’re in the mood to mope about like someone frickin’ died?”  
  
The master vampire began snarling and got right into his lieutenant’s face. “You listen to me, from now on you keep your yap shut; otherwise I’ll shut it for you, permanently.”  
  
Syn drawled in response, unfazed by the irritation rolling off the master vampire, “You’ve gone fucking soft; you know that, my lord?”  
  
Shadows pulled back, going back to his seat and looked up at the ceiling of the bus. As if he could find an answer to everything that had happened in the lining. An answer to why his feelings had changed, his attitude, his...everything. The only thing he got was the sounds of the others beginning to stir, and getting out of the bunks.  
  
He allowed his eyes to drop back to the other vampire’s level. He said nothing though, as the rest of the gang came down from the top level of the bus. The Rev was the first one down, and he made his way to where the females were resting.  
  
Shadows watched him, brow furrowed. Synyster snorted, lifting his eyebrows. The Rev bared his fangs at him and sat by Luna, absently running long fingers through her hair. A tender expression came to the vampire’s face as he gazed upon the female.  
  
The master vampire shook his head, surprise in his eyes, mumbling, “And here I thought I’d seen everything?”  
  
The Rev gave a subtle laugh, meeting his leader’s incredulous look. “I’ve always had a thing for your sister...and after...after those years...she for me.”  
  
Shadows shook his head slightly before glancing toward the others. Zacky leaned against the wall a tired smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. Johnny stood beside him, his dark brown eyes clear, but filled with anxiety. Before a word could pass between them, though, a soft curse came from the entrance to the bus. They swung their heads around just as Pierre appeared in front of the securely shut door.  
  
“Damn...that still takes some getting used to...” The darkhaired male rubbed at his head which he’d almost knocked into the railing against the wall.  
  
Shadows folded his arms, frowning even more. “Pierre?”  
  
“Yeah, don’t wear my name out.” Pierre turned to look at the master vampire, eyes narrowed. The bigger male lifted his hands slightly in a placating gesture.  
  
“Just wondering what you’re doing here.”  
  
Pierre sighed. But wasn’t forthcoming with an explanation. Instead he looked at the other men a thoughtful expression in his eyes. Then he focused on Zacky. The green-eyed male met his gaze steadily.  
  
“Was that really the devil?” Pierre’s tone was serious. The other male nodded expression equally as serious.  
  
“Yes, it was. But, he’s gone now. He won’t interfere in our lives, not ever again. And I don’t plan on calling him back. Ever.” Zacky cranked his hands into fists. “That was a mistake that has caused us years of grief.” He closed his eyes, breathing out roughly.  
  
Shadows watched Pierre carefully, seeing how he would respond. Pierre rubbed at his jaw, catching the master vampire’s look.  
  
“How long ago?”  
  
“1947. Fifty-one years.” Shadows’ voice tightened, and he had no idea why. He felt like a total pansy actually. Then as Pierre looked away from him and over to the two sleeping females, the realisation of his feelings hit him between the eyes as surely as a bullet from close range.  
  
“1947?” Pierre’s tone was equally as tense.  
  
Shadows coughed his throat raw as if he’d swallowed some sandpaper. “Yeah, same year I met your mother.” He allowed his gaze to fall upon Sherry’s sleeping form. “I sometimes wonder how things would’ve turned out between us if different choices had been made back then.” He paused, looking toward Pierre again.  
  
Pierre gave a shrug of his shoulders his focus completely on his mother. “Can’t change the past.”  
  
There was quiet after his statement as they gazed upon the elder female. Then as they continued to watch her, she began to wake, eyelids fluttering. Shadows leaned forward, propping his hands against his knees, body coiled tight. Pierre tensed, eyes widening a little. Synyster’s gaze darkened. The Rev, Zacky and Johnny remained in silence.  
  
Sherry turned her head slightly, mumbling as her eyes flickered open. “Matthew...” Her voice sounded far away. “Matthew...?  _Matthew_?” Her eyes popped open, wide, pleading almost. “Matthew...where are you?”  
  
Shadows blinked hard. Hearing his name on her lips was unnerving. The others looked surprised for all intent and purposes. They all swung their heads, including Pierre, to look at the master vampire. He bit at his bottom lip, fangs protruding.  
  
Pierre glowered at him. “You should go to her.”  
  
Shadows knew that he was right, but in all honesty he had no idea how to do this. He’d been cold for far too long. The stares of his subordinates were getting to him though, and if he weren’t careful, he would end up affirming his lieutenant’s scathing assessment of him. He was far from pathetic. He was just confused. Yet, confusion wouldn’t get him far; he had to act.  
  
Sherry was still murmuring his name, her eyes darting around the dimly lit cabin, unable to focus. Shadows swallowed back his uncertainty as he slid off the bench and moved into her line of sight. As soon as he made the move toward her, her eyes locked on his big body. Her own body stiffened and then she lifted her gaze to his, lips parting slightly as if she wanted to say something. Nothing came out, though. She just looked at him, obviously waiting for him to make the first move.  
  
The master vampire took several shuffling steps closer before stopping unable to bring himself to reach out to her. Instead, he took the time to just look at her with the utmost sincerity of expression.  
  
“Serena. How...?” Shadows felt a blockage in his throat; he had to force a breath through before he could continue. “How’re you doing?”  
  
Sherry took a few minutes to assess her situation, dark eyes scanning the small space, resting upon the other occupants. Her gaze lingered upon Pierre’s large frame, taking in the sight of her only son. Then she found her way back to Shadows. Tilting her chin she met the questioning stare of the bigger male.  
  
“How am I doing?”  
  
Shadows took his bottom lip between his teeth; he wouldn’t have admitted it, but the way she was looking at him made him want to throw his body on the floor at her feet. It made him want to beg for forgiveness, for the things he had done to her and to those who mattered to her. Instead, he just nodded in the affirmative.  
  
Sherry laughed low, the sound reminding Shadows of water bubbling from a fountain, and tinged with sadness. “Confused.”  
  
Shadows made a soft noise that sounded almost like a snort. “That’d make two of us.” He rubbed absently at his arms. She sat up more staring up at him, a strained light in her eyes.  
  
“But, I do know something,” Sherry whispered.  
  
Shadows tilted his head. “What’s that?”  
  
The female looked away from him toward Pierre. “You’ve fixed...everything. Our son...” her voice trailed away on the words. He followed her gaze and sighed.  
  
“Pierre, get over here.” Shadows motioned to the other male with a jerk of his chin.  
  
Pierre joined him, standing several feet away, keeping a wary distance from the both of them. Sherry shook her head, pushing up from the lounge and stepping closer to him.  
  
“Pierre, this was not how I imagined our first meeting would be...” She lifted her eyes to his.  
  
Pierre’s face took on a deep look of regret. “This isn’t our first meeting though. I still remember what I almost did...before.”  
  
Sherry reached out a hand to take hold of one of his, hesitantly squeezing it. “I won’t count that. You were not in your right mind...” She shook her head hard. “Matthew...”  
  
Pierre pressed his lips together before taking hold of her other hand. She stared at their linked hands. He gave her a sad smile, his eyes fixated upon her lithe form. Shadows could see the wonder in the male’s eyes. He could understand it too; Sherry looked no older than when she had done fifty-one years ago. And she really was a beauty amongst vampires. Even more so than his sister. Not that he could compare the two really.  
  
Shaking his head, Shadows cleared his throat. Pierre and Sherry looked over at him.  
  
“All this was my fault,” he said in a hard tone, “and I know it’ll probably take me years to make up for the wrong I’ve done.”  
  
Pierre grimaced, but it was Zacky who came in with a rejoinder. All eyes swivelled to the second youngest vampire on the bus as he interrupted in a gruff tone.  
  
“Not entirely. The evil we all encountered was mostly my fault...but now it’s gone, we’ll all be able to heal.” The bright emerald stare of the younger vampire locked onto Shadows. “Don’t blame yourself for everything, Shads...you were never that bad. Anyway, we’re all to blame, really.” He cast a look toward Johnny. “Except maybe pup here...”  
  
Johnny flushed and looked away. Shadows knew that the young Were felt terrible for many reasons. None more than the fact that he had been forced to do many things at Shadows’ behest. Including searching out Pierre in the first instance. Shadows growled, but said nothing to Zacky, turning away from them all.  
  
Silence fell within the confined space, stifling, uneasy. Shadows clenched his jaw, closing his eyes, but then they snapped open again and he looked across at Pierre.  
  
“There is one thing I did that is entirely my fucking fault.”  
  
Pierre met the blazing stare of the master vampire, muscles visibly tensing. “Jay.”  
  
Shadows heard the pain in the singer’s voice. “Yeah. But, that’s not exactly what I was referring to.” Sure, he had killed Pierre’s adoptive brother. And he would have to answer that. But, his mind was on the woman in his son’s life. “I’m talking about your girl.”  
  
Pierre’s body stiffened even more. “Lachelle?”  
  
Shadows took several breaths before saying, “Yeah, I-”  
  
“Manipulated her mind and forced her into fucking you,” Pierre cut in roughly. “I know.”  
  
The master vampire sagged, not even bothering to ask how he knew. That was a no-brainer. That connection before Pierre had been knocked out; memories had obviously passed between them.  
  
“I was a fucking bastard,” Shadows mumbled.  
  
Pierre smeared a hand over his eyes and murmured, “That would make two of us.”  
  
Again Shadows made no inquiry as to what Pierre meant. He just let out a heaving breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “How is she?”  
  
“I don’t know.” Pierre sucked at his fangs. “I’m going to go see her now...”  
  
Shadows nodded. “Good.” He looked at Sherry who was still holding onto Pierre’s hands. “Will you go with him? Or stay?” There was an edge in his voice. He didn’t know what it meant, but he felt a clenching tight in his chest, as if he was actually anxious as to her response.  
  
Releasing her son’s hands, and turning toward Shadows, Sherry looked him directly in the eyes, no fear in her own gaze. Then the corners of her lips curved faintly. “I’ll stay here with you, Matthew. I think we need to talk...”  
  
Shadows blinked hard the tightness in his chest increasing. Hearing her speak those words sent a shot of heat through his body which settled in a warm ball in the vicinity of his stomach. The warmth suffused the whole of his being, chasing away the coldness; it was unsettling. He gave a curt nod the ability to respond otherwise lost to him at that moment. He tried to ignore the nasty look Synyster was giving him from where he was propped against the wall. None of this concerned him.  
  
Shifting his weight, he gathered his thoughts. “Right.” He nodded to Pierre. “Will we see you again, before you go back to Laval?”  
  
Pierre shrugged, “Maybe, maybe not.” He looked toward Johnny. “I’m sure Pat’ll keep in touch with Johnny.”  
  
The Were nodded. “Or Shamus might drop over for a visit. He hasn’t been out of Toronto, ever.”  
  
“Pat’s cousin? That kid?” Pierre cocked an eyebrow. Johnny nodded again. Pierre rolled his neck, then looked to Sherry. Shadows saw the myriad thoughts that passed across his face, as he tried to find the right words to say to her. “I’ll see you again...?”  
  
Sherry smiled taking his hands again and squeezing them. “And your father, too...if all is well.”  
  
Shadows felt his heart squeeze in his chest at the female’s statement. He watched Pierre’s reaction.  
  
“Yeah... Goodbye for now, then.” Pierre allowed his lips to turn up at the corners, and then with a nod to the others vanished from the bus.  
  
Shadows blinked hard staring at the space where Pierre had been standing. He started slightly when he felt a gentle touch on his left arm.  
  
“Sire?” Sherry was standing by his side, looking up to him. He cast his gaze down in her direction, brow furrowing.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“We need to talk.”  
  
Shadows, closing his eyes and taking long breaths, nodded slowly. “Yeah, yeah we do.” And he was ready to talk, now. Seeing Pierre had solidified that surety in his mind. He was prepared to move on. It was time. Turning around, he took one of her small hands in one of his, clasping it gently.  
  
“Come. I’m ready.”  
  
Sherry smiled shyly and allowed him to lead her passed the others. The Rev was stroking Luna’s hair where she lay, still sleeping. Zacky was flopped on the other lounge, eyes closed, resting. Johnny sat propped up against the same lounge, smiling to himself, watching as the couple headed for the stairs. Synyster had gone as soon as Pierre disappeared, but none of that registered on Shadows’ mind. His thoughts were focused on one thing, one person.  
  
And one purpose.  
  
To fix everything he had broken, no matter how long it took. And he was going to start with the female who was his lifelong mate.


	35. "Keep talking, I'm listening."

_**Simple Plan Bus  
7:15 AM**_  
  
She was watching him warily; obviously afraid he might attack her again. Pierre couldn’t blame her for the sentiment even though it hurt him to feel her distrust of him. He sat opposite her on the edge of David’s bunk, shuffling his feet in a nervous pattern against the floor. He didn’t quite know where to begin. There were so many things he felt needed to be said, but he couldn’t voice any of them. The words were trapped at the tip of his tongue and did not want to budge. He felt that he would choke on them before he could get them out.  
  
He could feel Lachelle’s eyes on him, watching him as he was doing the same to her. He gave a tight smile. She didn’t return it. He sighed, tilting his head back fishing around his mind for something to say. Lachelle beat him to it, though.  
  
“You don’t have to say anything to me.” She shook her head, long blonde locks falling into her face. “There isn’t anything you could say to me to fix this. You...you hurt me.”  
  
Pausing, she looked down at her hands; Pierre could feel the sorrow, pain, hurt, rolling off her in waves. It was a tangible emotion between them, a barrier preventing him from getting to her heart. His own ached at the pain in her voice.  
  
“Chelle-”  
  
“No,” her voice was forceful. “No, Pierre. Don’t. Please. You...” Lachelle’s voice tightened. “You...you _raped_  me. I...I just can’t get my head around why you’d ever do that to me.”  
  
Pierre opened his mouth; she held up her hand, halting him. “No. You don’t have to explain. Pat has already told me some things, and I know because you’re a vampire there are things you will do that no human ever would. But, that can  _not_  excuse the pain you caused me.”  
  
Lachelle lifted her eyes to his; Pierre recoiled at the wounded expression in her gaze. Yet she held his steadily, obviously determined to get him to see where she was coming from. There was a long silence then where they just stared at each other.  
  
Then Pierre said, “So, what exactly are we doing here, then?”  
  
Lachelle began rubbing a hand against her thigh before answering in a quiet voice, “We can’t go back to the way things were.”  
  
Pierre nodded; he had to agree with her there. There could never be any going back to their previous life. He had never expected that.  
  
“So, what, then?”  
  
Lachelle looked at him, hard. “You broke it off with me. Remember?”  
  
Pierre exhaled roughly. “Yeah, I remember. But...that was a mistake. A terrible mistake. I...misjudged you. And...Matt was at fault there. Not you.” He leaned back against David’s bunk. “But, you’re right. That doesn’t excuse what I did to you after...” He looked at his shoes. “I’m kind of surprised you’re even talking to me now.”  
  
Lachelle gave a sad little laugh. “Well, we’d have to, sooner or later. It’d be too awkward otherwise.” She laughed some more, no real amusement in the sound. “Being on this bus, and all. We couldn’t really avoid each other...it’d cause too much...tension, y’know?”  
  
Pierre was nodding slowly, agreeing with her sentiment. However, he knew no matter what was said now, life could not go on in the same way it had done. Things had changed too much between them. Still, he didn’t want to lose her, not entirely. But, he couldn’t think how he could even get her to begin trusting him again.  
  
He sensed that she was very nervous of him. The feeling was tangible, almost a living thing between them. In such a tense atmosphere, Pierre knew it would be difficult to rebuild trust. In fact, he wasn’t expecting it ever to occur, because it would be too hard to overcome the circumstance that they found themselves in.  
  
Then there was the added issue of all those virgins he had drained. The guilt of his actions was vast; their deaths were weighing down on his mind, his heart, his soul. He knew there was nothing he could do to even begin to absolve himself of his crimes. Even if he decided to turn himself in, it wouldn’t bring the women back. Not that he would do that; there wasn’t any way he could go to the police and admit what he had done without having to twist the truth at least a little.  
  
Sighing, he looked over at Lachelle. She met his gaze, tilting her head to the side. He rubbed a palm over his cheek then dropped his hand between his knees, rubbing at his thighs.  
  
“Can we agree, at least...to share the space? Y’know...just...” Pierre paused not sure how to frame his question. Lachelle made no move to aid him, waiting for him to go on.  
  
He scrunched up his face, before continuing. “Um. Tolerate each other, I guess.”  
  
Lachelle lowered her eyes, staring at her feet, but gave a tiny nod in the affirmative. “Yeah. I think...I think I could handle that.”  
  
They fell quiet once more, both pondering the decision they had just come to. It wouldn’t be easy, that was the honest conclusion that they both realised. But, then none of this had been easy from the beginning. For either of them.  
  
“So,” Pierre said, attempting to fill the uncomfortable silence, “What now?”  
  
Lachelle shifted on the bunk, pulling the blanket around her. He frowned, rubbing at his leg.  
  
“Want me to let you rest for a bit?”  
  
She nodded without answering; shuffling onto her side, so her back was to him. Pierre sighed and slid off David’s bunk, pausing to allow himself a long look at her profile, before turning for the stairs. Taking them two at a time, he made his way to one of the long couches where Pat was seated, going over the band’s final leg of the tour.  
  
The Were glanced up as he approached, cocking his head to the side. Pierre shook his head, not wanting to talk. Pat gave a grim smile, before looking back at his lists.  
  
“It’ll be okay, Pierre. In the end,” he said in a low voice, without removing his eyes from the laptop in front of him.  
  
Pierre shrugged in answer, crossing his arms and leaning his head back against the wall.  
  
“Don’t believe me?” Pat changed position, closing the lid and looking at his friend. The vampire lifted his shoulders in a noncommittal gesture, keeping his eyes glued to a point on the opposite wall.  
  
Sighing, the Were turned to peg his friend with an empathic look. “I know you don’t. But, it will be okay. You could always ask Luna for reassurance.”  
  
Pierre finally looked at him. “Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah.” Pat tapped the side of his nose. “She sees these things.”  
  
“What? With her nose?” His lips twitched in a tiny smirk. The Were groaned, shaking his head.  
  
“Very funny...”  
  
Pierre chortled, the sound almost amused. “I try.”  
  
“Indeed...” Pat shook his head then clapped a hand to his friend’s broad shoulder. “You’ll see, though...one day...”  
  
Pierre just nodded, closing his eyes and resting his head back against the wall. But then he opened them again, staring hard at the wall opposite.  
  
“Pat?”  
  
“Yeah?” The Were glanced at him.  
  
“I’d believe you, y’know? About the whole it being okay thing.”  
  
Pat frowned. “You’re about to say ‘but’, though?”  
  
“Yeah. But...when I get home.” His lips tightened. “Jay...” He couldn’t go on. But there wasn’t any need. He knew Pat understood perfectly well what he must be feeling and thinking.  
  
“Yeah, I know. Nothing’s gonna be the same again.”  
  
They sat in silence after that, because nothing else could really be said.  
  
 _ **Avenged Bus  
Same Time**_  
  
Sherry was as relaxed as she could possibly be, considering what she was doing. Thoughts floated through her mind as she rested close to the Master Vampire. Her head lay against his left thigh, a soft tremor causing her body to shift against him. Fear was emanating from her as evident as her own sweet scent. Shadows’ fingers were tracing hesitant lines through her long hair, playing with the individual strands. Neither of them spoke, just getting used to being in each other’s company, for the first time in decades.  
  
They had never attempted to just sit and relax in silence. Life back then had not been easy, nor had it been pleasant. It  _might_  have been, but life intervened in ways that neither could have fathomed at the time. Since then, Sherry had feared the Master Vampire, the male who was her lifelong mate. And Shadows had not felt anything other than the need to dominate the female.  
  
Turning her head a little, Sherry peered up into Shadows’ face. “Matthew?”  
  
“Hmm?” He met her searching gaze. She closed her eyes then turned her face against his still stroking hand. A tight smile played across his features.  
  
Nuzzling for a moment, she gathered her thoughts, before looking at him again. “Brian hates me, doesn’t he?”  
  
Shadows’ blinked a little surprised by the question she asked. Sherry herself got a strained look on her face as if she too were shocked by her own query. He withdrew his hand, folding both arms across his chest. Trying to figure out the best way to answer her.  
  
She waited.  
  
And waited.  
  
Shadows’ brushed a rough hand over his face. “Fuck, Serena...there’s no easy answer to that.” He pegged her with a sharp look. “You know he wants me to kill you. We already went through this, before.”  
  
Sherry swallowed hard, the column of her throat flexing in discomfit. Shadows remained quiet, allowing her to take in what he had just told her. She averted her gaze for a long moment, staring at a stain on the lino. Then she peeked at him again.  
  
“You...won’t...though, right?”  
  
He shook his head in a firm motion. Then he stopped, frowning. “Don’t get me wrong. If you had asked me that a month ago...” He sighed. “I would have. But, you know me...homicidal vampire...”  
  
Sherry bit at her bottom lip. “Things have changed, though. You said so yourself. After you confronted Pierre.”  
  
“Yeah.” Shadows gave a weak smile. “I don’t feel like myself.” He looked toward the window, jaw clenching a little. “This...isn’t like me...”  
  
She hesitated before resting a hand on one of his thick biceps. He tensed it a little, the muscle tightening beneath the ink etched into the skin. Rubbing gently, she stayed quiet, allowing him some mental space. She could see that he was a little confused by his own emotions and didn’t want to force him into a corner. Doing that to any vampire was a dangerous premise, doing it to the Master Vampire, ten times more risky.  
  
Sighing, Shadows lowered his eyes to hers again. “But. Change is important. I can’t go on living the way I was. The same fucking circle. It just won’t work anymore.” He smiled a sad expression which held no amusement. “And, to be totally fucking honest, I don’t want to be an asshole anymore.”  
  
“Well, that’s good.” Sherry smiled a little; her hand going still on his arm. “I mean, it’s a start, right?”  
  
Shadows nodded. “Yeah, it is.” He closed his eyes, rubbing a knuckle in the corner of his left one. Then he heaved a sigh, before looking at her again. “It’s not going to be easy. I caused a lot of shit in the past and I can’t just...erase it all...even though, I wish I could.”  
  
The female tilted her head to the side, squeezing his arm, her touch light, compassionate. Shadows blinked at her seeing inexplicable tenderness in her still wary gaze.  
  
“If we stick together...it may not be as difficult as you think, Matthew.” Conviction appeared to be growing in her voice, in her demeanour, creeping cautiously from beneath her fearful exterior. Shadows grimaced, eyes narrowing a little.  
  
“Together...” his voice trailed off on the end of the word. His brow furrowed as he contemplated the implications of her statement, but then he smiled, shifting his weight.  
  
Sherry smiled back, running her fingers over the ink on his arm. He watched in silence, eyes tracking her movement. She traced along each design with a delicate touch, before sighing and letting her hand rest. They stayed in repose for a long while, just letting the quiet of the bus envelop them in a comfortable atmosphere.  
  
Shadows cleared his throat, breaking the silence after many minutes had passed. “Y’know...when I first met you...?”  
  
Sherry tensed, glancing up at him. “Yes?”  
  
“You wanted nothing to do with me.”  
  
“I wanted no male, Matthew. My stepmother wanted me mated off.” Her nose wrinkled in disgust.  
  
Shadows’ gave a low chuckle. “Well, she got what she wanted.”  
  
Sherry rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “True that...but...I she never knew what happened between us after the fact.”  
  
The master vampire had an almost apologetic expression on his face when he replied to her statement. “That was mostly due to me being a possessive bastard.”  
  
“How do you mean?”  
  
“I lied to them a lot, to her and your father. They had no clue what went on in the manor. That was no one’s business but mine.” He took his bottom lip between the tips of his fangs. “And, yours, I guess.”  
  
Sherry blinked at him, and then burst out laughing, pressing a hand to her stomach as if to try and hold herself together. Shadows stared at her a look of bewilderment in his eyes. For several moments, she was unable to respond to the incredulity on his face, she was laughing so hard. But, once she managed to calm a little, she looked up at him to try and explain.  
  
“I am sorry for that, sire...I just...you saying that. Lord, back then you wouldn’t have cared if it were my business or no.”  
  
The corner of the male’s lips twitched. “True. Unfortunate, but true.” He inclined his head to her, that apologetic expression still on his face. “But...now...” He paused.  
  
She finished for him, “You do?”  
  
“Definitely,” Shadows said, emphatically. Then he snorted. “That sounds a bit enthusiastic. Even for me.”  
  
Sherry giggled. He smiled softly at her. “So, anyway...”  
  
“Pierre.” She said. “What are we to do about him?”  
  
The master vampire stretched his arms above his head before draping them along the back of the lounge. “Nothing. I mean, apart from making some sort of peace with him. I mean, he’s a grown man.”  
  
“He’s still a young vampire, though. Considering how old we both are.”  
  
“Age is only a number, Serena.”  
  
“Yeah, but still, his whole transition period hasn’t been easy for him. I mean...at least for me when I turned I had people around me who understood what I was going through. He just had Patrick, who only understood through association.”  
  
Shadows nodded. “Yes, well from now on, it’s all going to be fine. Or at least it will be after I...” He faltered, slightly.  
  
Sherry frowned at him. “After you what?”  
  
Closing his eyes, and shaking his head, he murmured, “It’s not something I’ve ever done before.”  
  
“What, Matthew?” She sat up looking at him directly in the face. He avoided meeting her stare, jiggling his right knee in a nervous action, something he normally wouldn’t do.  
  
“You remember what I did to Pierre’s brother?” Shadows asked, voice strained.  
  
Sherry nodded slowly. She could still picture what the master vampire had done. It had been one of the most horrific things she had seen him do in a long time. Shadows grimaced.  
  
“Well, I’m going to see if I can...” He hesitated again, uncertainty flickering over his face and causing his features to twist in a sour expression. Before he could go on, though, the door to the bus hissed open and heavy feet stomped up the stairs heralding the return of his liuetenant. Those heavy footsteps passed the others, non-committal grunts passing between the other vampires. And then the partition that led to the back room, where Shadows and Sherry were, was shoved aside.  
  
“Oi, Shads, what the fuck are you doing?”  
  
Shadows groaned, turning his head to look toward Synyster who was now hovering several feet away.  
  
“What’s it look like to you?”  
  
The brown-eyed vampire sneered. “Coddling the fucking female. Fuck, you really have gone soft, haven’t you?”  
  
The master vampire made to move, but surprisingly, Sherry got there first. With the knowledge that Shadows was now completely behind her the female felt a surge of bravado. In a deft move, she was on her feet and in the lieutenant’s face, eyes blazing in indignation.  
  
“First of all, Brian Haner Jr, My name is Serena Sanders. Which makes me your leader’s  _mate_.” She stopped short of the temptation to poke a finger into his muscled chest; opting for standing on her tiptoes and breathing into his face. “Secondly, he hasn’t gone soft. I’d thank you not to suggest such a thing. I’m sure he’d still be willing to rip your throat out if you decide to continue being an insubordinate so and so.”  
  
Synyster blinked at her, amusement and shock warring across his chiselled features. Shadows threw his head back and guffawed, slapping a palm against his thigh.  
  
“Damn, female. I knew you still had  _some_  spark in you.”  
  
Sherry went pink, her cheeks feeling hot. She backed up so she was standing close to the bigger vampire. Synyster gazed at her the shock having disappeared, now replaced by an expression of grudging respect. He cast a wry look toward the master vampire.  
  
“Yeah, even  _I'd_  come close to saying you chose the perfect female for yourself.”  
  
Shadows shrugged. “My father would have approved.”  
  
Synyster smiled, slowly. “Indeed. Anyway, I came looking for you, because I feel we still have an issue.”  
  
“And that would be?” The master vampire lifted an eyebrow, while wrapping an arm around Sherry’s waist, pulling her onto his lap.  
  
“Johnny.”  
  
Shadows muscles tightened at the back of his neck. But his lieutenant gave him no time to comment, forging on.  
  
“I mean, fuck, Shads. All those unexplained absences and the number of times he’s disobeyed you. You can’t seriously be thinking of letting him get away with it.”  
  
“Excuse me? When has he disobeyed me?” Shadows eyebrows crashed down over his eyes, face darkening.  
  
Synyster folded his arms. “Whenever. It doesn’t matter. You’re too easy on him.”  
  
Sherry tilted her head to look at him, wondering how he was going to answer to that. He squeezed her around the waist, then muttered in a low voice, “I can’t do anything to him, Brian.”  
  
“Why the Hell not?” Synyster glowered at him.  
  
Shadows shook his head. “It’d break my sister’s heart.”  
  
“How is that even-?”  
  
“He’s my fucking nephew, okay, Brian? I can’t do shit to him.” He groaned, cutting him off.  
  
Synyster stared at him, pupils dilating. “What?”  
  
“You heard me.” After he said that, Shadows dropped his face into Sherry’s hair, effectively blocking the other male from his view.  
  
The silence that followed was deafening. Synyster appeared to have lost all ability to speak. Sherry shifted a little, so that both could watch as the other male backed out of the area, shaking his head in bemusement.  
  
“Uh...right...well...I’ll leave you to it then.”  
  
He walked away, passed the others again.  
  
Shadows didn’t bother listening to hear if the others said anything to him; instead, he pulled Sherry closer in his arms, nuzzling into the back of her neck. She sighed, leaning back into his body, relaxing. And, they stayed like that just allowing themselves to become more comfortable with each other, and not worrying about anything else.


	36. Ashes to ashes

_**Still on A7X bus  
Sometime later**_  
  
“What’re you staring at?”  
  
Johnny was lazing on one of the long sofas next to The Rev who was still being attentive toward Luna. The female was curled into his side with her eyes closed. Johnny was attempting not to notice but that brought his own attention upon Synyster who was just looking at him with a deep, confused expression on his face.  
  
“What?” the vampire growled.  
  
Johnny rolled his eyes. “I said what’re you staring at?” With The Rev right next to him he felt safe enough to push the lieutenant without risking anything.  
  
Syn shook his head, dragging fingers through his hair. The expression on his face, though, gave a lot away. Something had gotten to him, and Johnny was curious as to what it could be. Though, obviously the vampire was in no mood to let on what was doing in his head. Even if he was giving off loads of ‘what the fuck’. Still, the Were didn’t want to push his luck. He knew he wasn’t Syn’s favourite person.  
  
The Rev had no such qualms, though. He had been listening in and decided to chime in, in his usual perceptive manner.  
  
“You look like you’re trying to solve some puzzle there, Brian.”  
  
Syn glowered at the lanky male. “I’m not doing shit.”  
  
The Rev sighed. “You might as well front, Syn. Johnny needs to know that you know.”  
  
Johnny stiffened, sitting up his eyes darting between them. The elder male looked at him, expression serious.  
  
“Brian knows.”  
  
“Knows what?” Johnny started to ask, but then he halted as his mother’s words came back to him. “Shit...you mean about Shadows being my uncle?”  
  
Syn clenched his jaw, nodding furiously. The Rev sighed. “Yeah. He knows about that.”  
  
The Were closed his eyes then looked at the lieutenant. “Syn, I never knew...not for decades. My mother told me about it.”  
  
“Your mother?” The vampire scrunched up his face, pushing his fedora off his face.  
  
Johnny nodded toward the female snuggling into The Rev’s side. “Luna.”  
  
“Ah, fuck...” Syn dragged a hand through his hair. “Guess that means I have to be nice to you now.”  
  
“Not like Matt would let you do anything to him anyway,” The Rev pointed out.  
  
“True. I never got that.” Syn shook his head his dark gaze looking critically at the Were. Johnny couldn’t take the intensity of his stare and so averted his eyes to the floor. The vampire went on as if it was of no consequence whether Johnny commented, or not. “I mean...I just thought he was too fucking soft where you were concerned.”  
  
“Maybe I was.” The growl that filled the room caused their heads to turn.  
  
Shadows filled the doorway at the back of the bus, palms braced against the flimsy frame. Johnny frowned anxiously; the Master Vampire’s expression softened as his gaze fell upon the Were. “But, it wouldn’t have changed anything if I hadn’t been. Johnny hasn’t ever done anything to warrant me putting him on the skids. And at any rate, considering he’s half vampire, I couldn’t have killed him anyway.”  
  
Johnny rolled his eyes at that statement, but The Rev conceded with a tight nod of his head.  
  
Syn frowned, rubbing at his pants. “So, I guess, that means it’d be even more pointless for me to try?”  
  
Shadows shifted his weight, while inclining his head toward his lieutenant in the affirmative.  
  
“Shit. What a joke.” Syn sighed and sank into a contemplative silence. Johnny just gave Shadows a disbelieving look. The vampire met it with a hard one of his own.  
  
Then he turned his gaze to The Rev who was looking down at Luna’s slumbering form. “James.”  
  
Bright blue eyes lifted to meet his, a questioning look in them. “Yeah, Matt?”  
  
“I need you and pup to do something for me.” He turned his head back slightly, his eyes looking over his shoulder. Sherry appeared behind him, her face serious as she looked out at the other males.  
  
The Rev cocked an eyebrow, nodding at her then looking at his leader. “Of course.”  
  
Shadows smiled faintly at the female before returning his focus to the male, his eyes going sharp as flint. “Go to the Bouvier’s and get Jay’s ashes.”  
  
The Rev was not easily surprised by anything, and usually was as cool as ice water, but this was one thing he hadn’t expected. “Matt...do you know what you’re about?” His voice was low, strained.  
  
Shadows groaned, leaning into the doorframe. Sherry moved up next to him, laying a soft hand against his taut bicep, rubbing gently. He looked down at her, watching her quietly. Shifting closer she leaned into his shoulder. He smiled then sighed, answering his friend’s question without meeting his stare.  
  
“No. Not really. But, I have to try.”  
  
The Rev didn’t ask what Shadows ‘had to try’, he could already guess what that was, and even though he was uncertain of the outcome if he did, the assassin wasn’t about to question him. Easing Luna from his lap, she stirring only a little, he stood motioning to Johnny. The Were shifted into his wolf form, to make it easier to travel.  
  
“Alright, we’ll leave now. You won’t-”  
  
Shadows growled, “We can’t go anywhere, we still have our last gig, remember?”  
  
The Rev grimaced. “Yeah, I forgot.” He looked down at Johnny. “Let’s go, we haven’t time to waste.”  
  
The Were nodded; he was already beginning to fade from view. The vampire met Shadows’ pained expression. No words needed to be said though. They both nodded and The Rev vanished without a sound.  
  
Shadows gave a heavy grunt and collapsed on the spot The Rev had vacated. His sister woke at the motion, and peered up at him. Sherry came to sit on his other side, leaning against him. He glanced at the two females cuddled next to him and felt strangely at peace. Smiling faintly, he leaned his head back allowing himself to relax for the first time in a very long life.  
  
Closing his eyes, he murmured, “Wake me when they get back...” and with those words he let his mind shutdown.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The buzz of a Dyson was the first thing that registered on Johnny’s sensitive ears as he appeared outside the Bouvier residence. The Rev materialised next to him, commenting about humans and their cleaning habits. Johnny’s tail twitched in response, but he said nothing, just listening for any other sounds.  
  
“Come on,” The Rev muttered. “We don’t have time to stand around.”  
  
Johnny yipped in agreement, padding toward the nearest window. Jumping up, he braced his front paws against the ledge and peered through the glass. He could see Louise moving around the living room with a vacuum cleaner and duster. However, his sharp nose was searching out the distinctive scent of human ashes. The Rev joined him, his own sharp senses scanning the room.  
  
 _There._  He pointed toward the mantelpiece. Right in the middle was a tiny blue ceramic jar.  _We need to get that somehow..._  
  
Johnny whined faintly. But it wasn’t he or The Rev who voiced the solution.  
  
 _That’s easy. Or don’t you know how to teleport objects...?_  
  
They swung around as one unit; Johnny’s hackles were up; The Rev’s eyes were glowing. Pat was standing behind them with his head tilted to the side.  
  
“Holy shit, scare a vamp, why don’t you?” the vampire grumbled. Johnny growled questioningly.  
  
 _What’re you doing here?_  
  
Pat frowned looking toward the window. “I had to get away from his royal mopiness...”  
  
“Pierre,” The Rev said.  
  
Pat nodded. “Yeah, his mood was getting me down. I had to do something.” Then he looked back at the figures before him. “I had a feeling someone might show up here. So, yeah...here I am.”  
  
The vampire nodded slowly. “So...about the ashes...?”  
  
Pat turned toward the window, his gaze focused on the jar. He just stared for a while, his hands cupped together in front of him. Nothing seemed to change on the other side of the glass, though. The jar remained where it was. Pat let out a soft chuckle. The Rev growled in frustration.  
  
“What’s so funny, wolf?”  
  
Johnny was watching Pat closely, then he yipped in realisation. Pat turned at that same moment, and opened his cupped palms, revealing the very same jar. The Rev blinked hard, glancing toward the mantelpiece inside.  
  
“It’s a carbon copy,” Pat explained. “They won’t notice the real thing has gone. And once Shads has done what he needs to...well we can put the real deal back...or not...as the case may be.”  
  
Becoming suspicious, The Rev snapped, “How do you know what Matthew wants with the ashes?”  
  
Pat gave the vampire a level look. “I’m not too young to know that when a vampire wants someone’s ashes there’s only one reason for it. And it ain’t to snort it.”  
  
His knowing glare was a little too much for The Rev to handle, and so he averted his gaze.  
  
“Right. Of course.”  
  
“Look,” Pat said, softly. “I know what Shads is going to try...and all I can say is I hope to God it works. Otherwise, life is not gonna go on for some of us.”  
  
The Rev gritted his teeth, nodding hard. He could understand that sentiment. Breathing out roughly, he met the elder Were’s hard gaze. “Do us all a favour.”  
  
Pat nodded. “Sure.”  
  
The vampire paused, then looked up toward the sky. “Pray. Pray for all of us. Pray for Matt...just...pray...” He noticed the Rosary that was sticking out of the Were’s pocket. At the same time, Pat’s fingertips brushed against the wooden beads.  
  
“I never stopped...” Pat murmured. Then he held the jar out to The Rev. “Take care of this. I need to get back to the guys.” He hesitated, before adding, “Tell Shads, I’ve got his back...all the way.”  
  
The Rev inclined his head, before he and Johnny vanished from the yard.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Luna’s eyes narrowed as she heard someone stumble onto the bus. Two someone’s. She frowned, but relaxed when she recognised the scents that wafted to her. Turning, she nudged her brother’s leg.  
  
“Matthew...they’re back.”  
  
Shadows grunted, eyes slitting open. “Huh?”  
  
“James and Johnny...they’re here.”  
  
The Master Vampire went from mild stupor to wide awake in a split second. His big body was practically humming as he sprang to his feet and strode toward the two figures that were approaching from the bus entrance.  
  
“You got it?”  
  
The Rev nodded, showing him the object he was cradling in his hands. Shadows stared down at the tiny jar, darkness passing over his face.  
  
“Shit, that’s it? That’s...”  
  
The Rev shrugged. “Not a lot left after you burn a human body...”  
  
Shadows cocked an eyebrow. “I won’t ask how you know that.”  
  
“Wise,” the elder vampire muttered. “So, what do we do now?”  
  
“ _You_  don’t do anything. I need Zacky for this next bit.” Shadows frowned toward where the others were still sprawled. Said vampire slit open an eye as he sat up from his horizontal position.  
  
“What do you need me for?” He still sounded groggy, and his skin hadn’t quite returned to its usual healthy pallor. However, his eyes were shrewd and direct as he looked at the master vampire.  
  
Shadows smiled, grimly. “You’re our resident medic. I need you with me in case there are any complications after I’ve done this...thing...”  
  
Zacky frowned, eyes narrowing; before he could ask what he meant, it dawned on him and he gave a low growl of shock.  
  
“Yeah,” Shadows murmured, “ _That_  thing.”  
  
“Have you ever done this before?” Zacky’s tone was reasonable, no hint of the incredulity that had been evident in his initial reaction.  
  
“Never. But, I know I’m capable of doing this. It’s a perk of who I am.” He sighed, wearily, closing his eyes and steeling himself. Zacky, The Rev, Johnny and the two females who were sitting up watching, remained silent, giving the master vampire space to sort out the turmoil that was going through his mind.  
  
This was not a decision one could make lightly. It would require a lot of willpower, focus and support. It could backfire and people could get hurt. Most importantly of all, it would require a sacrifice. But, it was one that Shadows was willing to lay down. Of course, he wasn’t going to mention this last point to those standing in front of him. That was his private confession to whoever would listen out there in the supernatural realm. After all if the Devil existed, God had to as well...  
  
Sighing, he opened his eyes and met the anxious, yet resolved stares of his subordinates.  
  
“I have to do this. I need to set things to right.” His lips pulled in a hard grin. “Trust this to be the first truly selfless thing I’ve ever done in my life.” He inhaled, nostrils flaring, the muscles across the back of his neck tensing. Then he exhaled in a rush of air, glancing at Zacky.  
  
The younger vampire stood, stretching his arms out, the joints cracking. Then he gave Shadows a tight nod.  
  
“Let’s do this.”  
  
Nodding in turn, Shadows closed his eyes and vanished from their presence. Zacky shifted his gaze to the others. Johnny, still in wolf form, sat quietly, tongue lolling from his mouth. The females remained silent as well, but the support they were offering was evident on their faces.  
  
The Rev spoke up, “Go. We will wait here...and Zacky...”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“We bumped into Pat outside the Bouviers’.”  
  
Zacky frowned. “What did he want?”  
  
The Rev shook his head. “Nothing, but...I made him promise to pray for us all...”  
  
The younger vampire’s eyes flashed brilliant green. After a moment, he nodded, murmuring, “I hope that it will be enough...” Then, with determination flaring in his gaze, he faded from view, leaving the others to wait and hope for the best.


	37. Awake The Soul

He cannot understand what he’s seeing. Stretching along as far as the eye can see is a dirt path. There is nothing else, just this path leading to God alone knows where. Well, that’s not entirely true, there are some small scraggly bushes lining the road, and they rustle silently as he wanders along. He doesn’t know how he got there; all he knows is that it feels like he’s been walking this way for a very long time.  
  
Glancing upwards, he frowns, as dark spots dance in front of his vision. They could be birds, or they could be just those random wiggly lines everyone gets in their eyes. One thing that seems most noticeable is the lack of any sound. There’s just nothing, not even the noise of his feet on the ground. He casts a curious look downward and realises that he’s leaving no footprints, either.  
  
He looks back behind him. It looks exactly the same back as it does forward. Is this what being dead is? Just some endless pathway of nothingness? He can’t fathom it. Shaking his head, he keeps trudging along the path, wondering if he is the only being here.  
  
 _Not quite._  
  
He freezes at the voice, and turns his head, attempting to pinpoint it.  
  
 _You cannot see me...and you won’t be able to until you come back to us._  
  
He swallows hard, lifting a hand to ward off the unseen intrusion. “Who...are you?” His own voice has no sound, but he can hear it inside his head. Highly unsettling.  
  
 _That is not important. Just keep walking, until I tell you to stop._  
  
He shivers, eyes darting from side to side. “How long?”  
  
 _One hundred steps. Count them._  
  
He thinks he must be going mad, hearing voices in his head. The voice sounds amused and responds, thusly.  
  
 _You are dead, not crazy._  
  
He trembles, wrapping his arms tight around his upper torso. He can’t remember dying, can’t remember anything. Can’t even remember who he is. Shivering, he forces his mind to focus on the directions the voice is giving him. As he trails toward a hundred, he wonders if this is just some crazy nightmare, which he will wake from any moment now.  
  
 _No. This is no dream. You are truly dead, I am afraid. However, I hope to rectify that._  
  
“Why?” Speaking aloud helps, even if he can’t really hear himself.  
  
The voice doesn’t respond for what must be forever.  
  
He grumbles, still counting. “One hundred,” he speaks out.  
  
The voice responds, a gruff edge to it.  _Step off the path. To your right._  
  
“You never answered my question.” He breathes deeply, clenching his fists, feeling tightness in his chest that he didn’t feel earlier. There’s a heavy pause, and then the voice answers in an almost weary tone.  
  
 _I must make amends for my sins. For the sake of my soul, and that of my son’s._  
  
He frowns, repeating his earlier query, “Who are you?”  
  
There is deep, silent laughter.  _I think more pressing, is who are you?_  
  
Scratching at his jaw, he ponders that question. Then shakes his head hard. He still hasn’t moved from the path.  
  
The voice becomes cajoling.  _Come on, you don’t want to stay here, do you?_  
  
He squeezes his eyes shut, tight, shaking his head more. “No. Wherever here is...”  
  
 _Here is nowhere really. An in-between place. You could keep going until you reached the light, but it may take forever, because you died before your time._  
  
Shivering, he wraps his arms around his own torso. Chills run down his spine, and he wonders if he will ever figure out what this is all about. He steps off the path, to his right, eyes darting around as if, by magic, the person to whom the voice belongs, will appear close by. No such luck, though. Nothing changes at all, and he begins to feel even emptier.  
  
But, then he feels a tug at something inside his chest. At his heart. Or maybe it’s his stomach. He’s not sure, and then thinks it probably makes no difference where it is, it’s uncomfortable and he doesn’t know what it means. Which isn’t new.  
  
“What?”  
  
 _What? What?_  
  
He groans, rubbing his fingers over his face. “I don’t get any of this...”  
  
 _Not much to get._  The voice takes on an edge, becoming almost recognisable to him.  
  
He tilts his head and then feels the tug, again, harder, more insistent. Almost as if he’s been sucked toward something. Then the voice, taking on a commanding note, speaks out, reverberating in his skull, and through his bones, overwhelming everything else.  
  
 _You do not belong here. You must come home. People here need you. Come back to us..._  
  
He brings his hands up to his face, covering it, shaking his head hard. He doesn’t understand what’s going on.  
  
“Home...? But...I don’t even know...”  
  
The voice finally attempts an explanation.  _You are Jay Bouvier and your family need you...it is not your time...come back...open your eyes..._  
  
Jay blinks hearing the name setting off sparks in his mind, and then the rest of the statement. “Open my eyes?”  
  
 _Open your eyes..._  The voice takes on an urgent tone, entreating him.  _Open them...open your eyes...come back to us...in God’s name...come back to us..._  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
 _ **Tuesday May 27th 2008**  
Simple Plan Bus  
Early morning_  
  
Pierre sat in front of Chuck’s laptop, acoustic guitar resting across his lap. He was attempting to record a small video for the fans, trying to do something normal to keep his mind occupied. So much had happened in less than a month, and their tour had barely started, but he seriously wasn’t feeling it. It didn’t seem terribly important anymore. Not after what he’d done, and what he’d been through.  
  
He glanced upwards at the ceiling, picturing Lachelle laying in one of the spare bunks. Images of her face, and the pain she was still evidently experiencing flashed across his thoughts. Then he thought about his family back in Montreal. The things they were going through, the loss... Jay...  
  
He closed his eyes for a moment, then sighed looking back at the laptop monitor. The soft glow of the screen threw some illumination across his face, highlighting how pale he was, the dark circles from lack of sleep evident beneath his eyes. They stood out giving his eyes a hollowed, sunken in look.  
  
He viewed the screen through bleary eyes, heavy from keeping them open for so long. Not sleeping was probably the worst single decision he’d made in a long time, but part of him didn’t give a shit. He was too emotionally drained to even think of letting his body shut down. Admitting this fact to himself wasn’t easy, but that was partly due to the fact that everything had really only hit him in the past day and night.  
  
Considering, he’d been living in the moment, as each moment was going on, he hadn’t just sat back and let it all settle on him, and now...  
  
“Fuck...” Pierre sat back, moving his hand away from mouse, the cursor that was hovering over the record button, blinking impatiently at him.  
  
“What?” Pat, who was rummaging in the small bar fridge, gave the vampire a questioning look.  
  
Pierre shook his head. “I can’t pretend everything’s alright...I...can’t do this.” He waved a hand at the laptop. Then at the space he was sitting in.  
  
There was a heavy pause and then Pat groaned, shutting the fridge door and joining his friend on the couch. “What else is there to do?”  
  
“Huh?” Pierre ran a thumb along the strings of the guitar.  
  
“You guys still have one gig left in town...then...the rest of the tour,” Pat pointed out.  
  
“Yeah, don’t remind me.” Pierre tapped his fingers against the wood of the guitar. A frown creased his brow as he leaned over the keyboard, squinting at the monitor. “I should do this.”  
  
“For the fans,” Pat murmured, as he began to fiddle with the beads sticking out of his pocket.  
  
“Yeah. For the fans.” Pierre took several deep breaths, steeling himself. Rubbing his palms together, he shifted his guitar into position then leaned forward to hit record.  
  
As he began to speak at the webcam, Pat stood and headed back up to the second level. The Were had too many things going on his mind to be able to focus. It had taken him a lot of effort to act normal around his friend, but considering what he knew he couldn’t force it any longer. Taking the steps two at a time, he made his way to his bunk. Before he reached it though he felt a small hand reach out and grab at his arm.  
  
“Pat?”  
  
He turned his head to meet Lachelle’s bleary gaze. “Hey? How you doing?”  
  
She blinked at him through a curtain of blonde hair; it fell across her face, hiding her features. Pat leaned up against the edge of the bunk, waiting patiently for a response. Lachelle sighed, laying her head back against the pillow, but keeping her gaze fixed on the male.  
  
“I’m alright.” She cleared her throat, before adding, “You look worried.”  
  
Pat’s expression had darkened. He tried to smooth his brow out by rubbing his palm over it. But, it didn’t quite work. Lachelle was right about how he was feeling; he was extremely anxious. However, that came with the territory and there wasn’t much he could do.  
  
He forced a smile, shaking his head at her. “Nothing that you need to worry about.”  
  
Lachelle sighed. “How’s...?”  
  
“Pierre’s getting there.” Pat knew exactly who she was asking after. Pierre was on everyone’s mind at any rate so it wasn’t too hard to discern. He fingered his Rosaries while looking down at the floor. Hunching up his shoulders he murmured, “It’d be better if Jay...” He allowed his voice to trail off, looking up at Lachelle again.  
  
She nodded in understanding; words were pointless and they both knew that. Yet, Pat also knew that it wasn’t all hopeless, especially if Shadows succeeded... He shook his head abruptly.  
  
“I’ll let you rest more... need a lie down myself.”  
  
Lachelle nodded, whispering, “Thank you for watching out for me...I didn’t think...”  
  
Pat placed a hand on her arm, his touch gentle. “You’re my friend, Chelle. Of course, I’d take care of you.”  
  
He smiled, softly then turned and went to his own bunk. As he jumped up into it he felt a twinge in his stomach. Lifting his head, and flaring his nostrils, he drew in a deep breath. Something had changed. The atmosphere felt charged; he didn’t quite know what it meant, but something had definitely altered.  
  
Pat propped his elbows against the edge of his bunk, debating whether he should go and investigate, or just continue to wait. Tugging his beads from his pocket, he pulled them through his fingers, frowning. The Rev’s words came to his mind then.  
  
 _Pray for us all..._  
  
Clenching his jaw, he heaved his body up into his bunk, and flopping back he stared up at the ceiling.  
  
Myriad thoughts spun maddeningly through his mind. What-ifs and anxious treaties bombarded his senses. Doubts and negative thoughts roamed the canvas of his pained heart. However, he pushed them aside, giving space for quiet to fill him to overflowing. Then, lips moving, fingers stroking his beads, he began to silently pray.  
  
Confessing the pain and anxiety in his heart and soul, he felt the load he was carrying on his shoulders begin to ease.  
  
A fleeting thought passed across his mind as he prayed. The last time he had truly conversed with the higher power had been decades ago during the slaughter years. When the days had gotten darker than even he could handle he had quit in a fit of disgust and disappointment. But this time, he felt that just perhaps his prayers would be answered.  
  
The barely audible murmur of his own voice eventually lulled him into a light doze. As his eyes slid shut and his hand went limp across his chest, the beads fell down next to his body. Hidden, they lay beside him, a symbol of the burgeoning hope that, even in slumber, he truly felt.


	38. The Beauty Underneath

_**Same Day  
10 AM**_  
  
Pat woke with a jerk, eyes blinking fast. He had felt a surge of power rip through the atmosphere and it set his nerves alight. Frowning, he pushed back his curtain and sprang out of his bunk. Quickly, he grabbed whatever clothes he could find, jamming his legs into a pair of pants, grabbing a random hoodie, then at the last moment deciding to change instead.  
  
With a quick peek around the rest of the bus, he shut his eyes and vanished, going wolf in the process. He reappeared outside Laval, hitting the ground running, all the fur at the nape of his neck bristling, a growl of anticipation building in his throat. He leaped over fences, dashing through yards, making his way toward the cemetery.  
  
Before he was even close, he could sense that something was happening. The air was charged with electricity, and there was a hint of spice floating across the breeze. He lifted his sensitive nostrils to the wind, inhaling deeply. A shiver ran through his body. He picked up three distinct scents. Shadows and Zacky were close, but that third scent was the one he focused hard on.  
  
He let out a whine.  _Jay..._  
  
At that, Shadows appeared in front of him. “Patrick. I thought you would show.”  
  
Pat whined again, tilting his head to the side.  _Is he?_  
  
The master vampire grimaced. “We’re almost there...”  
  
 _You don’t sound so sure..._  
  
Shadows shook his head, glancing back over his shoulder. He exhaled roughly then brought his gaze back to the Were. There was a pained expression in his eyes and Pat wondered at it.  
  
 _Shadows?_  
  
The vampire’s top lip lifted away from his fangs as he let out a low hiss. “A sacrifice must be made.” He lowered his lip and turned away, shoulders tensing. Pat growled in question. Shadows shuddered but made no response, just loped back across the ground. Pat followed, silent on his feet the tip of his tail twitching.  
  
As they went deeper into the cemetery, the Were thought absently that he hadn’t set foot in the place for a very long time. In fact, the last time was probably when one of his friends’ of old had passed away. Human friends, that is. So, it felt a little surreal, especially with the atmosphere that was pressing down around them.  
  
“Over here, Patrick.”  
  
Pat realised he’d overshot a large clearing as Shadows’ voice jerked his mind from his contemplation. He swung toward the master vampire, meeting his worried gaze. Zacky was standing next to him sucking absently on his piercings. Pat sank to his haunches in front of them the fur at the nape of his neck was bristling; there was a third presence close by. He could feel it in the air.  
  
 _So. What’re you doing?_  
  
Shadows breathed out roughly. “Raising the dead.”  
  
 _I know that, but what exactly-_  
  
“He’s here...waiting, but...there’s one last thing I have to do.” The master vampire bent down to pick something up from the ground. It was the small vase which held Jay’s ashes. He paused before removing the lid. Then he looked back at Pat. “Can you change back...I need you to hold this.”  
  
Pat growled, uncertain, but did as requested, managing to shift back into human form with his clothes on. He allowed a fleeting sense of triumph to flicker through his mind, but forced his focus to what was going to happen. Stepping toward the vampires, he took the vase in hand.  
  
“What do I do?”  
  
Shadows shook his head while digging in the pockets of his jeans. After a few seconds he revealed a Swiss army knife. Flicking the blade, he turned it slowly the razor-sharp edge catching the faint streams of sunlight that came through the foliage above them.  
  
“You don’t need to do anything, just hold it for me.” He glanced at Zacky. “You know what to do?”  
  
The younger vampire inclined his head in the affirmative, then murmured, “You should only need to give a few drops...I have bandages ready.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder to a roll of surgical bandages propped against a gravestone.  
  
Pat frowned but decided asking questions would be pointless. Obviously, the two vampires had thought this through; he was just going to be a spectator. He looked between them, noting a strange light flickering in Shadows’ eyes. Something seemed a little off.  
  
“Right, a few drops,” the bigger male said.  
  
He lowered his eyes to the ashes, gazing down at them with an expression of deep concentration. Then lifting his left wrist, he drew a deep line across it the tip of the blade parting the layer of skin easily. He held it over the vase, tilting it as the slow trickle of blood that began to form could make its way into it.  
  
Pat blinked, noting the colour; it was a deep burgundy, nothing like he’d ever seen before. It dripped slowly into the vase, and as each drop came into contact with the ashes within a soft wisp of smoke puffed upwards. It seemed like forever, and maybe it was, judging by how pale Shadows was becoming, before he deemed that he’d put in enough blood. Lifting his wrist to his mouth, he licked around the wound to heal it. Then he took a step back, looking at Pat then Zacky then down at the vase in his hand.  
  
Shadows still held the knife in his other hand. He looked at them both once again, then stepped away, turning his back on them. Tilting his head back he held the vase aloft toward the heavens, closed his eyes and began to murmur a soft prayer. As his words drifted upwards along with the tendril of smoke rising from the mouth of the jar, the atmosphere began to change; a tingle of power ran up Pat’s spine, and a chill settled throughout his body.  
  
The younger vampire, Zacky, obviously felt it as well, because he began to rub at his biceps, and shuffled his feet on the ground. Shadows shifted his weight, his voice rising and the rate of his words increasing as he came to the climax of his plea.  
  
And then at the height of the tension, as the pressure in the air around them increased tenfold, he took the knife that was still clenched in his other fist and with a soft grunt, buried the blade into his stomach, twisting it hard. It wasn’t until he jerked it up hard, slicing through bone, and finding his heart, wasn’t until he sunk to the ground, doubling over it, that Pat or Zacky realised what he had done.  
  
“Matthew! No...” Zacky dove for the bigger male’s body, grabbing him, spinning him around. “Fuck, what’ve you done...?”  
  
Shadows, lifting his eyes to the younger male, murmured low, “Had to be done...” Then his eyes rolled back in his head as he slid to the ground.  
  
Before Zacky could say anything else, a blast of energy hit him as an explosion of bright light lit the space around them. It came from Shadows, from the jar that had hit the ground, dropping from the master vampire’s hand.  
  
Pat, who had backed off in shock, threw himself to the ground, Zacky joining him. They covered their heads as the wind began to whistle around them, spinning up into a tight whirlwind. The glow was increasing in brightness, so much so that they had to cover their eyes.  
  
They remained that way with their heads tucked down against their arms until they thought it was safe enough to look again.  
  
It took quite a while for the light to dissipate but as it began to slowly dim, Pat finally lifted his head from his arms, and squinted into the clearing. There were two things he noticed when he did. First was the bulky figure of the Master Vampire. Shadows was lying off to one side, on his back, completely motionless. The knife was on the ground in front of him, the blade dark, wet from his blood.  
  
Pat tracked his gaze from Shadows’ big body, across the clearing to where the vase had fallen, rolling across the grass. He had to wipe at his eyes as they fell upon the second thing he noticed. A leaner body lay, curled in the foetal position at the base of a gravestone; the figure was shivering as if from the cold. Even though it was actually quite mild.  
  
The Were let out a string of curse words, just staring. Zachary wasn’t as stuck, though. Grabbing his kit, he scooted over to the second figure and leaned over it. It was Jay Bouvier. His eyes were shut, his mouth lax, and a trickle of drool running from the corner of his mouth. His chest was barely moving, but there was breath there.  
  
“Pat, get over here.” The young vampire waved him over.  
  
Pat couldn’t move. Never in his life had he seen anything like it. The notion of resurrection was no stranger to him. Having been raised Catholic he knew what that was. But, to see someone else being brought back to the land of the living was mind boggling. He shook his head at Zachary, mouthing rushed words that flipped from curses to prayers.  
  
Zacky sighed, turning his focus back onto the man in front of him. Leaning over him again, he pressed two fingers to the pulse point at his neck and checked his vitals. Then he gently rolled him onto his back, uncurling him so he was laying flat. Jay didn’t stir, but a soft gasp of breath escaped and his eyelids twitched. He was definitely conscious.  
  
“Pat, get over here...” Zacky once again tried to get the Were to focus.  
  
Pat groaned, but managed to force his feet to get him over next to the vampire. Staring down at Jay, he kept shaking his head, but found his voice.  
  
“Shit. This is just...”  
  
“Unexpected? You knew this was what Shads wanted to do.”  
  
“Yeah, but...it’s not something I thought I’d ever see...” Pat dragged his fingers over his face. “Fuck...” He turned his gaze over to the Master Vampire. “And...what the hell did he do...”  
  
Zachary replied gruffly, “He said a sacrifice was needed.”  
  
“Himself?” Pat growled low, shock evident in the sound. “Who would’ve thought he could be so selfless...”  
  
The two of them fell silent, thinking on that just staring at each other. After several awkward minutes, Zacky finally turned back to Jay. Unrolling the kit he’d brought with him, he grabbed a blanket and began wrapping it around him. Pat hung back, watching not really knowing how he could help. The vampire didn’t look like he needed any assistance though, so the Were began to pace as he waited.  
  
This whole thing was a shock to him. Jay. Alive. But, it wasn’t really him who would be the most affected by it all. He had to think of Pierre. He had no idea how his friend would respond to the fact that his brother was alive, not after what had happened. Not after what Shadows had done.  
  
Speaking of the Master Vampire, sacrificing his life for Jay was more than just a surprise. Pat never thought that it was even possible for Shadows to care enough to do something like that. But, obviously he did. Either that or it was his way of making amends.  
  
Pat shook his head wondering how everything would work out.  
  
Zachary in the meantime was carefully checking over Jay’s body, deep in concentration. Silence settled over them the only sound other than their presence being the soft breeze that was now moving over them and through the trees.  
  
Pat tilted his head up, breathing out softly relaxing his tense muscles. Zachary sat back on his heels, glancing over at the Were.  
  
“We need to get him back to his place.”  
  
Pat nodded, frowning. “Then we’ll have to get Shads’ body back to your bus...”  
  
Zachary grimaced, he didn’t like the prospect of having to do that, didn’t like the thought of how the females would respond. It would kill both Sherry and Luna to find out what Shadows had done. But then, he wondered how the master vampire’s sister hadn’t seen this...  
  
A sharp cough broke his contemplation; both he and Pat swung their heads round toward the noise. Shadows had shifted a little. A loud moan came from his big form then he rolled over and heaved, dry hacking noises leaving his throat.  
  
“ _Shads_?” Zacky was torn. He wanted to go to his leader, needed to in fact, to check that he wasn’t dreaming; but at the same time he knew he had to make sure Jay was comfortable so he could move him. He was stunned, unable to make a decision. Pat stood by him, equally as dumbstruck.  
  
The Master Vampire groaned, pressing a hand to his stomach, before pushing his body up off the ground and shuffling to his knees.  
  
“Fuck...it didn’t work...” Shadows hadn’t seen Jay’s body, so was obviously assuming, since  _he_  was still alive that Pierre’s brother was not. He braced his palms against his knees, squinting as he lifted his head up. “Zacky?”  
  
Zachary’s nostrils flared. “Shadows...”  
  
The Master vampire shuffled forward on his knees, keeping one hand pressed to his torso. As he got closer, he frowned wondering why the younger vampire, and Pat, hadn’t moved.  
  
“What’re you do-” his voice cut off when he saw Jay laying in front of them. “Is that?”  
  
Zacky nodded slowly. “Yeah. It did work.”  
  
Pat added, “You must’ve been wrong about the sacrifice.” He licked his lips. “It may have only been the intent that counted.”  
  
Shadows got closer his eyes fixed on the elder Bouvier. “Maybe...how is he?”  
  
“Conscious. But we haven’t tried waking him,” Zacky answered. “I think we should get him back home before we attempt anything.”  
  
The Master Vampire gave a tight nod, glancing at the Were who had resumed pacing. “Patrick?”  
  
Pat looked at him. “Yeah?”  
  
“How do you want to go about telling Pierre?”  
  
“I hadn’t thought that far, yet,” Pat said, scrunching up his face. “I think, I should talk to him before anything else happens.”  
  
Shadows nodded, again. “Right, well then, Zacky will get Jay back to his parents...I have to get back to the rest of the guys...and you...”  
  
“I’ll go talk to Pierre.” Pat ran his fingers through his hair again, before taking several steps away from the site, shifting back into his wolf form.  
  
 _See you_ , he yipped, before spinning on his haunches and loping away through the trees.  
  
Shadows watched him leave, and then turned his head toward Zacky. The younger vampire was moving around Jay making sure he was ready. He lifted bright green eyes to the master vampire.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
Shadows shook his head. “Take him home...I’ll see you back at the bus when you’re done.”  
  
Zachary inclined his head in response then without another word the two vampires – Zacky with Jay’s still form - vanished, going in different directions and leaving the cemetery as if they’d never been there.


	39. Home

Pierre sat frozen on the couch, fingers clenched around the neck of the guitar.  
  
“What are you saying, Pat?”  
  
The Were stood before him, arms crossed tightly over his chest, rosary beads clutched in his left hand, as he rubbed his thumb over them repeatedly. He just shook his head, his lips pressed together in a thin line. He didn’t have the nerve to repeat what he’d just told his friend.  
  
Pierre groaned, shifting the weight of the instrument on his lap. “Are you fucking serious? He…he can actually  _do_  that?”  
  
Pat nodded, his gaze fixed on a spot between the vampire’s feet. He absently noted the laces on Pierre’s shoes were tied neatly for a change, instead of hanging frayed. They must have been new.  
  
“Un-fucking-believable…I don’t know if I can…” Pierre trailed off, seemingly unable to find words to express how he was feeling.  
  
“Better believe it, Bouv,” Pat muttered. “When you go home…he’ll be there.”  
  
“But, why?” Pierre asked, setting the guitar aside and leaning forward against his knees. “Why would Matt…do that?”  
  
Pat glanced up at his friend. He could read the shock and confusion in the male’s eyes, and knew how hard it was for him to come to terms with the information. He was still finding it difficult to believe what had gone down, had actually happened. Until he saw the elder Bouvier with his own eyes, he knew it still wouldn’t really click in his head.  
  
Pierre raised his eyebrows at the Were, and muttered, “You got an answer for me, Pat?”  
  
“I don’t even know anymore, Pierre,” Pat answered, closing his eyes as he leaned back against the opposite wall. He opened them again after a long moment, meeting the vampire’s sharp look. “All I can say with any certainty is that Shads…has had a big change of heart.” He laughed bitterly, “Maybe it’ll be too late for you to forgive him for the shit that’s happened…but at least he’s tried to fix things.”  
  
Pierre snorted. “I gotta say, if what he wanted was forgiveness…bringing my brother back  _is_  the best way to get that…still…I’ll reserve judgement ‘til I see Jay with my own eyes.”  
  
Pat nodded. That was a fair statement. And the biggest thing out of this was the condition the elder Bouvier would be in. His illness had become such an integral part of him; Pat wondered whether that had remained intact. Or whether that had been cleaned from the slate.  
  
Pierre bowed his head, pressing his palms against his face as he hunched his shoulders up. The Were took that as a sign to give him some space, so turned and headed for the top level. He glanced back once to observe his friend. Pierre hadn’t moved, and made no sound, all he was doing was concentrating on his breathing. Pat could hear it from where he stood. The vampire was steeling his mind, mentally preparing himself.  
  
Pat cleared his throat, but didn’t speak out loud.  _Gimme a yell when you’re ready…_  
  
Pierre looked up then and gave a slight nod. Pat turned and left the vampire alone.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Restlessness seeped through Pierre’s bones as he paced the length of the bus. It was several hours since Pat had told him his brother was alive, and he still hadn’t been able to come to terms with the fact. The others had left to go to the venue to run through a full sound check for the band’s final gig in town. But, Pierre just wasn’t in the mood for any of that. Music was the furthest thing from his mind. Images of his elder brother were pinned to his frontal lobe, and he felt he would go insane if he didn’t do something about it.  
  
“Patrick?” His voice came out in a growl.  
  
Pat looked up from where he was sitting on the couch with his laptop. Silent, he was working on the band’s site, keeping to himself and not disturbing the vampire.  
  
“What?”  
  
Pierre grimaced. “How much time do we have?”  
  
“Time?”  
  
“Before the gig tonight?”  
  
Pat glanced at the time on the screen. “Four hours. Why?”  
  
Pierre didn’t answer; instead he gave a curt nod and without further thought, vanished from the bus. Pat started slightly, cursed and disappeared after him, knowing exactly where he was headed.  
  
 _ **Laval**_  
  
Louise swallowed hard, staring at the looming figure in the doorway of her late son’s bedroom. Shadows filled the frame his big palms gripping them firmly. The expression on his face was taut, yet there was an earnestness there that Louise had not seen before. She wasn’t sure what to think, though. Fear was a very real emotion, and she was feeling it now. The male standing there had killed her son, in front of her, so what he was telling her wasn’t making any sense.  
  
“So, run that by me again,” she murmured, “you’re telling me you brought my son back?”  
  
Shadows nodded tightly.  
  
Louise frowned. “His ashes?”  
  
Shadows shook his head, sighing. “No, Louise.” He turned his head and beckoned to someone behind him. “Bring him here, Vengeance…”  
  
Louise frowned at the name, wondering what kind of person…then she blinked several times as Shadows stepped aside and a smaller male stepped into the room. He flashed a grim smile, the piercings on his lower lip flashing, bright emerald stare drawing her attention fully on him. Then to what he was holding in his arms.  
  
She gulped several times, eyes widening when she realised what- who the male was holding. Vengeance had one arm under his back, and the other beneath the crook of his knees, but the figure was unmistakeable. Louise held the back of her hand against her mouth as she sunk down on the chair by the bed.  
  
The male walked over and gently laid Jay out on the bed. Louise couldn’t say anything, she just stared at him. He was so pale and with his eyes closed she couldn’t decide whether to believe that he was truly back.  
  
“Is he?” She finally found her voice.  
  
The green-eyed male smiled. “He is. Talk to him…”  
  
Louise was taken aback by the gentleness of Vengeance’s tone. She glanced at the shorter male, and noted the very tips of his fangs, protruding just where his top lip met his piercings. He was a vampire as well, like Shadows, but obviously of a completely different character. She nodded to him then leaned across the bed to her son.  
  
“Jay…oh…god…” That was all she could get out. But it appeared that was all she needed to say, because the man slowly turned his head toward her, eyelids twitching a little. Before opening fully and focusing on her face.  
  
“ _Maman_ …”  
  
Louise gasped softly, blinking hard.  
  
Vengeance and Shadows backed out the door to leave her in peace with her son.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Stepping out into the hallway the two vampires paused before preparing to vanish, but as they were about to leave, Pierre appeared in front of them.  
  
“Oi, Shadows,” Pierre interrupted them, causing them both to turn to him in surprise.  
  
“Bouvier?” Zacky frowned. “Aren’t you meant to be performing a show?”  
  
Pierre shook his head. “Got a few hours. Needed to come home…”  
  
“So, you know, about your brother,” Shadows murmured. His big body was tensed as if he wasn’t certain of the reception he would receive from the other male. Pierre met his gaze directly, deep brown eyes candid, sincere.  
  
“Yeah, that’s why I’m here.” He glanced to the bedroom door. “He’s in there?”  
  
“Mhm,” Zacky said. “Your mom’s in there with him.”  
  
Pierre worked his jaw for a moment while he tried to get his head around that particular piece of information. Then he looked at Shadows, brow furrowed.  
  
“I have one question.”  
  
The master vampire nodded. “I know.”  
  
“You do?”  
  
“Yeah, and no, it’s gone, Pierre.” Shadows lips twitched faintly. “He’ll live to a ripe old age, your brother.”  
  
Pierre crossed his arms over his chest and gripped his elbows hard, squeezing them as he blinked several times at the other vampire’s response to his unasked question. He cleared his throat gruffly before murmuring in answer.  
  
“Thank you…I didn’t expect…”  
  
Shadows interrupted in a gentle voice, “Your brother was an innocent who got caught in the middle of all this shit. I just wanted to make amends…I know it can’t fix everything…and it definitely can’t fix what I caused you to do…but…it’s something…I hope.”  
  
Pierre nodded a little, still stunned by the apparent 180 personality change the master vampire had gone through. Then it wasn’t entirely surprising, considering how  _he_  had turned out after the fact. He still smarted over what he had done to those women.  
  
He glanced to the door again, anxious to get in the room to see his brother. He wanted to view with his own eyes the thing that he could only call a miracle. He wasn’t one to believe in the unexpected, but after everything that had happened this was just one more thing to get used to. But, he needed to see this thing with his own eyes to truly believe it had occurred.  
  
The master vampire picked up on Pierre’s edginess and nodded to the door. “Go. Zack and I have to leave. Get in there.”  
  
Pierre licked at the tips of his fangs before he inclined his head to the other two males. “Thank you…”  
  
Shadows shook his slightly, placing a palm over where his heart was. “Go, be with your family.” He vanished without another word.  
  
Zacky shot Pierre a smile before disappearing after his leader. Pierre stood looking at the spot where they’d been standing before turning to head into his brother’s room.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Shadows materialised back on the Avenged Sevenfold bus, dragging a hand over his head, removing his cap and bandana. Sherry lifted her head from where she was leaning up against Johnny. The two of them were sitting on the lounge watching a movie. Syn and The Rev were opposite them playing cards; Luna was curled up against the tall vampire.  
  
Zacky appeared shortly after and flopped down next to the young Were and the female, whose eyes were glued to the master vampire’s big frame.  
  
“How’d it go?” Sherry’s voice was low.  
  
Shadows breathed out roughly. “He’s home…and Pierre’s there.” Which was a bigger relief than he’d ever imagined, but there was no need for him to elaborate on that; it was pretty damned obvious to everyone concerned.  
  
“They’ll be okay, won’t they?” she murmured.  
  
The master vampire joined her on the lounge, bracing his hands on the edge of the seat. He was hoping with all his heart that that would be the case. Enough was enough. He couldn’t handle all the despair anymore.  
  
He looked over at the female who he had mated so many years ago, whom he had put through so much grief and pain over so many decades. Her and her son, both.  
  
But in twenty-nine years, times had definitely changed…but the most change? Often it occurred in the tightest amount of time, and right now Shadows was facing the biggest revolution that had ever occurred in his two thousand years of life.  
  
He smiled slightly at Sherry. “I’m sure they will be…but,” he paused.  
  
“But?”  
  
“I have something more important to think about, now…” Shadows looked at her directly.  
  
Sherry blinked at him. “What’s that?”  
  
He leaned back against the lounge, and folded his arms, his expression serious. The others glanced over to them with different expressions. The Rev’s features were drawn in an equally sombre cast; Luna’s was hopeful, soft; Syn’s was hard, but gave nothing away. Johnny’s was curious and Zacky’s was expectant. Serena’s face was tight, yet hopeful, nervous of what Shadows was going to say.  
  
He cleared his throat several times as he thought of what life had thrown at him, and how everything had come to pass. How the past few weeks had turned out were a big surprise, so much had happened, but now it was all coming to an end, and something new and exciting would begin. Life…his life. It would be so much better now. And he wanted to make everything in it work, but particularly one specific part of it.  
  
Shadows swallowed hard, and then the tips of his fangs glinted as he flashed an almost tentative smile toward Sherry. “Us. You. Me…” He glanced across at the others. “All of us.”  
  
Syn snorted. “What the fuck are you talking about?”  
  
The Master Vampire glared at him, but didn’t respond. Instead he turned back to Sherry, and reached out to run a finger along her cheekbone. She shivered at his touch, but felt the tenderness in it, so leaned into him.  
  
“It’s time to go home,” Shadows said quietly.  
  
Sherry swallowed hard, before she whispered, “Home?”  
  
“If you’ll come with me?”  
  
The female turned her head to look out the window of the bus. She didn’t really have anywhere to go anymore, considering her rent was long due and the landlord would probably kick her out anyway. And the fact that she’d had to flee when Shadows had first sniffed her out… She turned her head back so she could meet the master vampire’s questioning, yet hope-filled gaze.  
  
“If you want me to?”  
  
Shadows exhaled with a soft grunt. “I do.”  
  
Luna chose that moment to speak up, her voice was soft, yet there was a confidence there that they all recognised. “You’ll be okay, Serena. Matthew’s a good male.”  
  
Sherry blinked hard at the younger female’s statement. She didn’t know how to respond to it. After everything that had happened that was almost hard to believe.  
  
Shadows looked at his sister, who added in a low tone, “I’m not just saying that because he’s my brother…I’m saying it because I know it to be true.” She leaned forward. “No matter what’s happened in the past, know this, Serena. Matthew won’t ever steer you wrong. And, anyway…I know how he feels about you…how he truly feels. I have never been wrong about anything.”  
  
Sherry bit at her bottom lip, looking back toward the master vampire.  
  
Shadows gazed back at her, his eyes a deep burnished hazel, almost honey-coloured. “Come home with me, Serena…”  
  
Sherry exhaled slowly before she nodded, and allowed a smile to curve her lips. “Alright…I’ll come home with you, Matthew.”  
  
Matthew’ smiled then looked across to The Rev. “James, where’s the driver?”  
  
The assassin smirked and pointed at Syn who had got to his feet and was making his way to the front of the vehicle. The Master Vampire rolled his eyes.  
  
“Well, I guess we’ll get back to Huntington in one piece, then.”  
  
The Rev laughed, shaking his head then he looked to Sherry and said, “It’s been twenty-nine years since you left…things will have changed.”  
  
She shrugged. “Maybe. But, none of you have.” A smile ghosted across her lips as the Master Vampire cocked an eyebrow at her. Sherry’s smiled widened as she added, “Except, perhaps for Matthew.”  
  
Shadows grabbed hold of one of her hands and squeezed it; she returned the gesture, flashing her fangs at him. His eyes glowed then as the bus lurched into gear, Synyster at the wheel; Shadows leaned in close and murmured something in her ear. The words were barely above a whisper, but Sherry heard them as clear as a bell. And she held onto them tight in her mind, as the vehicle began to roll across the bitumen, tyres crunching as they began the journey home.


	40. Last Time

_**Laval  
Bouvier Residence**_  
  
“Lach went back to TO?” Jay asked his brother who was leaning over the back of his bed trying to pull out the cord to his laptop.  
  
“Huh?” Pierre muttered, glancing up at him. Jay tilted his head and lifted his eyebrows.  
  
“Lachelle. She left?”  
  
“Oh, right. Yeah. She decided it’d be for the best.” Pierre straightened as he lifted the cord and powerpack putting them in the case open on his bed. Jay leaned in the doorway, eyebrows raised. Two months had passed; Pierre had been home that whole time. The band had taken a tiny hiatus, but all of them had been working towards getting back onto the road again.  
  
“You’re already heading back on tour?”  
  
Pierre nodded as he checked his phone. “Yes. Soon. Heading to Pat’s first.” He smirked faintly. “He’s not coming with us. He’s got this new gig with Musique Plus.” He licked his lips the tips of his fangs flashing as he grinned at his brother. “Good times.”  
  
Jay shook his head the corners of his mouth twitching. He didn’t say anything, though just watched his younger brother and marvelled at the fact that he was even there to be able to do just that. Pierre caught his eye and allowed his smile to soften.  
  
“I’ll call every other night.”  
  
Jay chuckled, “Don’t be stupid. You’ll be too busy to even think of us.”  
  
Pierre’s brow furrowed. “No. I will call. Family is important.”  
  
He stood still for a moment turning his gaze to the window and thought for a moment what Matthew and Serena were doing. His birth parents had returned to Huntington Beach, and last he’d heard they were doing very well – Serena had yet to forgive Matthew for everything, but that was to be expected considering all that had happened. But, other than that, they were going strong and  _apparently_  were trying to have another child together…  
  
Pierre shook his head at that thought and looked back at Jay. “Well, that’s that, then. I better go.”  
  
“Say goodbye to Maman and Papa..”  
  
Pierre nodded as he picked up his bags and walked passed his brother, out into the hall. “Always.”  
  
Jay followed him out then waited in the front hall as Pierre disappeared into the kitchen to find their parents. Voices drifted from there as Pierre made his farewells then he joined his brother at the door. He clapped a hand to Jay’s shoulder, giving it a hard squeeze.  
  
“I’ll see you, bro.”  
  
Jay nodded then pulled Pierre into his arms in a hard embrace. Pierre’s nostrils flared faintly but he pushed his hunger away as he patted Jay on the back.  
  
“Take care of yourself,” Jay said, gruffly. Pierre smiled saluting his brother then turned to walk out the door.  
  
* * * * *  
  
When Pierre arrived, Pat was outside propped up against the side of his car, staring up into the sky mouth moving in a silent prayer.  
  
“Pat?” Pierre got out of his car and walked over to him. “Hey?”  
  
Pat blinked then smiled at his friend. “Hey, you’re here.” Pushing away from the car he met his friend in a hard embrace, both of them clapping each other’s shoulders. “Ready to hit the road again?”  
  
Pierre headed for the house as he spoke over his shoulder. “Almost. I just…” his voice trailed off as he disappeared inside. Pat sighed and shook his head, following his friend inside.  
  
“You just what?” he prompted as Pierre slumped on a chair in the kitchen.  
  
“Had to come feed…” Pierre glanced at Pat. “For the last time.”  
  
The Were blinked. “What do you mean, ‘last time’?”  
  
Pierre rubbed at his face, and murmured, “I can’t expect you to keep feeding me, or coming to find us on tour.”  
  
Pat laughed sourly and snapped, “Bullshit. That’s not the real reason.” There was an awkward silence after his statement. He knew that there was more to his friend’s reluctance to use him, than just being worried about inconveniencing him. Pierre glared at him as he curled his lip, revealing the tips of his fangs. The Were ignored the warning. “You saw me at the cathedral. You  _know_  what was said.”  
  
Pierre growled, “You have Mare.”  
  
Pat sighed and sat next to the vampire, leaning back with his hands behind his head. “We’re best friends. Have been for decades. But…we’re together because our families expect that.” He looked earnestly at the vampire. “It’s just for convenience…”  
  
Pierre shook his head slowly. “This is the final time. When I come back from tour…I’ll find someone else.”  
  
Pat’s jaw tightened. “And on tour?”  
  
Pierre looked away, unable to meet his friend’s eyes. “The blood slaves in the City…”  
  
“Shit,” Pat sighed. “My father’s been trying to liberate them for years…” There was resignation in his tone, realising that the vampire wouldn’t budge on it.  
  
Pierre rubbed at his face wearily, finally meeting his friend’s sad gaze. “Patrick. I just can’t rely on you. I’m sorry.”  
  
His friend laughed softly, as he rolled up his sleeves, offering one arm to the vampire. “Don’t be. You’ve made your decision, and we both have to live with it. Just…feed…” Pierre looked at him; Pat’s expression was expectant. “Pierre?”  
  
Pierre sighed and shifted off the couch, kneeling in front of the Were. Pat lay his arm down across his knee; Pierre took hold of the proffered arm and leaned over it. He paused for a moment, nostrils flaring at the scent of blood that pulsed beneath the surface of the Were’s skin. He growled low, causing Pat to stiffen a little. But before he could change his mind and pull back, Pierre struck, scoring his fangs along the vein then latching onto his wrist and drinking hard.  
  
Pat grunted at the intensity of his actions and had to steady his breathing, tightness in his chest, a lump forming in his throat, as Pierre sucked at the cut. The vampire didn’t meet his eyes as he finished, licked at the cut then pulled away. Pat swallowed hard as he rolled his sleeves back down and sat back, observing his friend.  
  
Pierre wiped the back of his hand over his mouth then climbed to his feet, still without looking at Pat.  
  
“Right, I…better head off. Meeting the guys at the airport in half an hour.”  
  
Pat nodded slowly as he dragged his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, have a safe trip.”  
  
Pierre acknowledged his statement with a slight tilt of his head as he picked up his keys and made for the door. He paused, though, and finally looked back at the Were.  
  
“Take care of yourself, ‘kay?” As if it were goodbye forever.  
  
Pat shivered and lifted a hand to the vampire. “You too,” he murmured. “See you…” Guarded hope in his tone.  
  
Pierre flashed a tight smile then left without another word. Patrick stood and went to the window, resting a palm against the glass as he watched his friend pull out of the drive and away from the house.  
  
Away from him.


End file.
